


Adaptation

by TheRedWulf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: #DoItForEdd, #PotatoGate, Actor!Jaime, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author!Sansa, Awkward Flirting, Banter, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Dorks, Dorks in Love, Elves, F/M, Family, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hollywood, Jaimsa, Lust, Medieval, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Paparazzi, Pregnancy, Romance, Sidekicks to the Rescue, Smut, Social Media, Trolling, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wit, prompt, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 87,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which Sansa's life is completely changed when her novel becomes an international sensation and Jaime Lannister is cast in the movie's leading role...Picsets are viewableHERE,HERE,HERE!,HEREand a SPOILER SetHERE!!
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Sansa Stark, Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 1138
Kudos: 627





	1. Part 1: Setting the Stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BirdeBee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BirdeBee).



> Adaptation: Story of a Saga...
> 
> Oh look, another modern Jaimsa....
> 
> So, this story is dedicated to 'BirdeBee' on tumblr. Why? Because her picset and prompt [HERE](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/618248372578664448/author-x-actor-au-when-sansa-starks-critically/) placed a brain-worm in my mind that I simply _had_ to write. Did I want to have three open stories? No. Fuck no. But I have no shame, and here we are nonetheless. Please note, there will be some slight variations from her prompt (i.e. movie instead of show), but there will be plenty of banter, social media trolling and Jaime using his big name to get what he wants! 
> 
> As with 'Sans Serif', I am not entirely sure where this is going, how long it will be, etc, but I have a general map and we're going to go on this adventure together! Trust me, just....trust me. *fingers crossed* Also, a slight bit different writing style, but still my usual stuffs. 
> 
> Right now I don't have any warnings, but I know there will be some canon-typical violence in story excerpts (which are all in _italics_ btw) and foul language. So....yup. Will update the tags as needed, I advise you heed them at your own discretion. 
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer, as usual... This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.  
> Thank you for reading!

“No, Shae, listen to me please” Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to quell her oncoming headache, all while doing her best to smile at the waitress who had arrived to refill her latte--again. “I told you that Oberyn Martell is not it, he’s not right.”

“Sansa--” 

“Please, Shae” Sansa resulted to pleading. “If we’re going to do this--all of this, then we have to do it right. That was my only stipulation in all of this madness.” There was a long pause at the other end of the line while her editor and closest business contact considered the words. 

“Then I think” Shae sighed, the sound long and harsh against the phone’s speaker. “I think you have to be the one to call him.” 

“Me?” Sansa almost croaked in surprise. “Shae, I am an author not--” 

“But you’re the one with the vision” Shae argued. “You’re the one that created this entire universe and you’re the one--the only one who can see _him_ with any clarity. I think it would go a long way in soothing ruffled feathers and he would listen to you--” 

“Shae--” 

“He wants to talk to you. He’s made that clear already,” Shae laughed and Sansa could almost see her shaking her head. It was the confidence that her editor had in this that had Sansa relenting, nodding though Shae couldn’t see her. 

“Alright, just...I guess, text me his information?” she agreed and a visual of Shae spinning in her office chair in celebration popped into her mind, making Sansa smile. “You owe me.” 

“You’re my favorite author, have I ever mentioned that?” 

“You’re just saying that because I am the only one of your authors with producers breathing down her neck day and night. And!! _And_ I am the reason you got to talk to _the_ Jaime Lannister.” 

“Maybe” Shae admitted with a dramatic sigh. “Still, my very lovely boob-job thanks you for all of your hard work.” 

“Oh, Gods” Sansa groaned. 

“They’re just so perky---”

“Goodbye!”

“I’ll text you!” Shae’s yelling was heard as Sansa ended the call. Setting her phone onto the wooden table top, she took a deep breath that helped to settle her nerves and cleanse her soul. She had arrived at the ‘No Doze Cafe’ early this morning as was normal for her Friday routine, taking up residence at the booth in the back corner where she could work her way through emails in an environment _not_ her home office. 

Here at the cafe she could blend in with the rest of the world, let time pass her by as she worked. Working from home was all well and good--she loved her house on the outskirts of Wintertown, it was her retreat and her haven, but sometimes a change of scenery was a must. Especially for someone who had to be creative all day, every day. 

Especially when it became expected of her. 

Lifting her lavender honey latte she took a long drink, grateful that Jeyne was working today and the beverage was made to perfection. The perfect blend of spice and caffeine splashed across her palette, almost helping her to forget the anxiousness that had taken root in her stomach. 

Her phone vibrated with a text from Shae and Sansa unlocked the screen, ignoring the tremor in her hand as she read the contact information. 

She hadn’t intended on this, any of this, when she had started writing. Hells, her own parents hadn’t even believed in her ability to take the fantasy world by storm. ‘Writing’ as a profession was a joke to her parents, who came from old money. Resisting their influence she stayed the course, she had wanted to write a fantasy novel that people would like, but she had never thought--even in her wildest dreams, that this would happen. 

And what was ‘this’, exactly? 

‘This’ was producers from King’s Landing tracking down her editor, harassing Shae until she agreed to set up a meeting with ‘Alayne Stone’, Sansa’s publishing pseudonym, to discuss turning her series of novels into a series of movies. 

_Movies!_

‘Great potential.’ 

‘Highly lucrative.’

‘Wonderful world building.’

‘A fantastically flawed main protagonist.’ 

Gifts, flowers, high praise and any flattery they could use, they used. She was fairly certain that if she had asked them for a brand new Mercedes, they would have delivered her one. Complete with a gaudy red bow on the top. They wanted to take her stories and turn them into something that took the big screen by storm, and after months of back and forth, months of lawyers and meetings, months of unending flattery, they had reached an agreement. 

Only now things were falling apart. Or they were threatening to at least. 

_‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ had initially formed in the back of her brain during a creative writing class she’d taken at Lannisport College. For some reason the idea of a man sworn to protect those in the kingdom, but coming face to face with the fault in his vows and falling from grace, had stuck in her brain. She was unable to shake the idea of him, the strength and power that he exuded, the code of honor that he lived by, and so she started to make plot notes. 

Plot notes became entire scenes. 

Scenes became chapters. 

Chapters became novels, and before she knew it she had hashed out every detail of the world. Every setting, every vow, every character...

Every detail except one. 

Her Kingslayer. She had, with intention, left the descriptions of his person blank, unable to put a face to the form of a man who chose falling from grace over slaughter. She couldn’t push the fog away from his features in her mind, he remained a mystery even to the mind that had birthed him. 

A mystery until she saw _‘The Forgotten’_. 

_‘The Forgotten’_ was an awful movie, it really was. Poorly written, too dark to see a lot of the main battle’s detail, no chemistry between the leads, but it did have one saving grace-- _Him_. 

Jaime Lannister. 

Jaime. Fucking. Lannister.

Actor. Model. Playboy. Social media troll. And exactly the face that had been so hidden from her mind for years. 

Watching him in _‘The Forgotten’_ , seeing the authority that he was able to project from his tall, lean body, she knew in that moment that he embodied everything that the Kingslayer needed. And so, much to her embarrassment, she used Jaime Lannister as her physical inspiration, plugging in vague details of his person to form the last piece of the puzzle. 

No one had noticed, of course, not even Shae. She had kept the details general enough that it could have been any blonde man with green eyes, but in her mind’s eye she knew; Jaime Lannister _was_ ‘The Kingslayer’. 

So much so that it had been her sticking point throughout the negotiations; she wanted Jaime Lannister to take the lead. There was no one else, she had insisted. No one else could come close. No. One.

Not Sandor Clegane. Too bulky.

Not Bronn Blackwater. Too slimy.

Not Oberyn Martell--though he was a lovely actor as well. 

Only Jaime Lannister. 

If any man were to don the mantle of ‘The Kingslayer’ for three movies, it had to be him. There was simply no one else that would do. His agent, unfortunately, seemed to think rejecting their offers was a sport and nailing him down had been harder than travelling to the moon. 

Which, looking back, might have been _too_ easy. But that was a conspiracy theory for another time. 

Her finger hovered over the phone number in Shae’s texts for several seconds before she steeled her nerves and tapped it, the phone clicking over to dial before she could look back. 

_Shit._

It rang several times and then a deep, smooth voice picked up at the other end of the line. 

“This is Jaime---” 

“Mister Lannister, Hi---” 

“Ha! Got you” the recorded voice cut her off. “I am unable to pick up at the moment, so leave me a message and I will get back to you when I can,” she growled to herself as the message played, hating that she had fallen for the same prank her sister had used for decades. 

She blamed her nerves---

She blamed that scene in _‘Kiss of Death’_ when he was fresh out of the shower, shirtless, his towel hanging just low enough to be indecent----

Okay, so she had seen all of his movies...so? She’d seen plenty of other movies too! Like.....well, she couldn't name one right now, but still--

“Shit--hello, hi” she inwardly groaned, realizing she had missed the message's initial ‘beep’. “Mister Lannister this is S--Alayne Stone, I was reaching out to you regarding _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ and was hoping to have a moment of your time to discuss your part in all of this” she continued, leaving her number and a quick goodbye before ending the call. 

“Fuck” she sighed, lowering her forehead to the cool table top beside her laptop. She heard the waitress silently approach once more, another latte tribute being left on the table before retreating. “Fuck” she whispered. 

Minutes passed before she lifted her head, finishing her old latte before moving onto the second. Caffeine is good, yes. Caffeine will help. Help...ugh!

 _So...that went well,_ she told herself, returning her focus to her emails. She replied to a few from her siblings, mostly photos of them with their significant others or children, and then one to Shae confirming that she had, in fact, made the call. She was almost proud of herself.

Clicking over to the official Facebook page for her writing and _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ , she absently scrolled through visitor posts and pictures. It always cheered her up, seeing the response from her readers and fans, knowing that she had created something worthwhile. She hadn’t known a thing about ‘cosplay’ before the first book in the series, _‘The Fire Inside’_ had been released, but now she loved to admire those who chose to cosplay characters from the series. 

She was so engrossed with the photos that she didn’t notice her phone light up, signifying a new text had arrived, not until she had finished with her laptop and packed it and her notebooks away, preparing to leave. Picking up her phone she saw the notification, a new message from an unsaved number. 

“Oh” she paused her exit from the corner booth and unlocked the phone, heart racing as she opened his message to see not one, but several had been received. 

_‘Probably the most adorable voicemail I’ve ever received’_ the first message read. 

_‘Started with ‘shit’ and ended with ‘fuck’,’_ the second was followed by several cry-laughing emojis. 

“Oh no” Sansa groaned. "I am such an idiot" she bemoaned as she sank back to the vinyl booth seat. She had ruined everything...her phone vibrated again and she instantly opened her eyes to read the newest message. 

_‘On set, will call later. Promise.’_ it said simply, only a single winking emoji at the end giving her any sort of hope that she hadn’t thoroughly screwed the pooch on this deal. Exhaling in great relief--or what would come close enough to relief, she gathered her things and headed to her SUV, departing the ‘No Doze Cafe’ with a smile and wave goodbye to Jeyne. 

Now she had to wait and agonize about the impending phone call from Jaime Lannister. 

Jaime. Fucking. Lannister. 

Maybe she should go back and get another coffee to go...

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_He stared down at the body at his feet--a body that until moments ago had been the King of the Seven Kingdoms. A body that had been a man. A father. A brother. A mad man. But no one else knew--or if they did they simply chose not to see it or admit to it. No one else had looked the truth of their King in the face._

_Not like he had._

_Not like he did._

_He had faced down the madness time and time again. Guarding this man--this King had taken its toll on his own sanity, made him question everything he had held true to his heart. Serving at this King’s beck and call had made him realize that the world was far more than Knights and songs. This world wasn’t that of purity, honor and honesty, but something dark and twisted._

_Something horrible._

_The weight of his actions settled suddenly in the pit of his stomach, simultaneous to the drops of royal blood that dripped from his Valyrian steel blade to soak into the burgundy robes that the King wore. The blood soaked into the fabric, the sin it carried wicked away as it was absorbed. It was almost, he absently thought to himself, as if it had never happened._

_The world around him was burning. The city was crumbling and the armies of Aerys were suffering at the poor commands of their ruler. It was only by a stroke of luck---no, a stroke of steel that the entirety of it--down to every brick and beam, hadn’t been consumed by the wildfire that the King had intended to use._

_His stomach heaved and he looked away from the heap at his armored feet. He had stabbed a man in the back. Run his King through. He would never be able to undo what he’d done….but in the darkest corners of his soul, he knew that he would never undo it regardless. He would do it a thousand times if he had to. No child--no innocent deserved to burn to death in the name of 'safety'._

_Women._

_Children._

_Innocents._

_The King had intended to use them all, wildfire as his cleansing poison to protect his people from the invasion. A sick and twisted solution...Suddenly cries echoed to the South, signifying that the Elves had breached the walls of the city, the Kingdom had fallen as surely as its King had. As he had. And now all that was left to look his future in the face. To accept the consequences to what he had done._

Jaime laughed to himself as he locked his phone and tucked it away in his bag, leaving it in care of his long-time personal assistant, Podrick Payne, affectionately ‘Pod’. He was almost done working for the day, and it had been a day. Delay after delay meant he had spent most of the morning sitting in his trailer, in his cumbersome costume, switching through apps on his phone to pass the time. 

He had just received his call to set and had ducked into the restroom when, of course, his phone decided to ring. The overly complicated suit they had him in--whatever made him decide that a superhero movie would be easy to make, he had no idea-- meant that he had missed the call. It was worth it, however, when he listened to the charming voicemail that Alayne Stone had left. 

Alayne Stone. 

Finally, after months of doing his best to ‘hold out for more money’ as his agent would say, he had gotten what he wanted; the chance to talk to Alayne Stone. 

What? It wasn’t as if actors were above being fans of other people. He had read _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ when they had been initially released, and had reread them several times since--along with her other work, but that was beside the point. Long bouts of air travel and down time on set meant that he was a voracious reader--something most wouldn’t expect from ‘Westeros Magazine’s’ Sexiest Man Alive, three years running. But an avid read he was. He had picked up the first book on impulse at an airport shop and then made sure to pre-order the following books in the series as soon as they were available.

The saga consisted of _‘The Fire Inside_ , _‘Quest of the Fallen’_ and _‘Redemption’_ , all of which quickly became his favorite books and favorite series. He had even gone as far as to read the companion book that detailed the entire extended universe, _‘The Book of Brothers’_. 

What? So, needless to say he was a fan of the series. 

He had, in some small way, seen a bit of himself in the main character. Not only did the fallen knight also have blonde hair and green eyes, but he struggled with his family’s lack of acceptance with his profession and lived in the public eye more than he ever wished to. Jaime had, in a way, forged a bond with him and felt emotionally invested in the series. 

So you can imagine his surprise when he began to hear rumors of the novels being turned into a trilogy of epic movies, and his utter shock when his agent received a call stating that Jaime was the author’s first--and only, choice for the lead role. 

Ser Barristan Selmy. Fallen knight. Broken hero. Kingslayer. _That_ was the role that Jaime wanted more than anything. That was the role that would earmark his career forever. That was the one, the ‘big fish’!

He urged his agent to accept the studio's offer straight away, but as always Mel insisted that they play coy, hold out for more money. Groaning in exasperation, Jaime had agreed but when rumors of Oberyn Martell being offered the part began to swirl, he had gone behind Mel’s back to ask Alayne’s editor for the chance to speak with Alayne directly. 

Okay, so he was clearly using his name to get what he wanted, so what? 

Totally worth it. 

He had started acting in high school, having been forced to take a drama class after he, along with several of his soccer buddies, had broken into the theatre and were caught drinking in the costume room. It was embarrassing at the time, having been remembered by the theatre director for being that ‘drunk kid in half a lion costume’, but soon he was remembered for far better things. 

Turns out he had a knack for acting and taking command of the stage. 'Natural charm' the director had called it one night after a show with two curtain calls, Jaime knew, in that moment, that he was going to be a famous actor someday. Much to his Father’s chagrin. 

Years of hard work and shitty bit parts soon turned into larger roles and then, before he knew it, he was being followed by photographers and him buying a latte in running shorts without a shirt was huge social media news. It was that event in particular that opened his eyes to the power of Instagram and Twitter, two of his favorite apps. He used them both to control his own destiny, so to speak. He was able to communicate directly with his fans and followers, getting ahead of any salacious gossip, keeping the air, and in turn his persona, clean.

Sure, he was what most would call a ‘troll’, riling up fans and shit-posting in his boredom, but it had somehow made him even more ‘endearing’ to the public. According to Mel at least. Most wouldn’t know it but Jaime was, admittedly, a dork. He might clean up nicely, might look lovely on screen (thanks to incredible hair, makeup and wardrobe staff), but really he was a complete and utter dork. And troll. 

_“Shit, hello, hi Mister Lannister this is S--Alayne Stone, I was reaching out to you regarding _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ and was hoping to have a moment of your time to discuss your part in all of this….Fuck” _ the message played in his head as he moved to his mark on the sprawling roof top set that they were shooting in today. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how flustered and lovely her voice was. It matched her beauty, he reasoned, remembering several of the photos of her he had seen on her professional Facebook page. 

She was tall and slender with the porcelain skin that came only with matching natural vibrant red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was often photographed with a dark-haired girl who was much shorter than her, they seemed close so he figured her for a best friend, and was never photographed with a boyfriend or lover.

Ok, so he might have also googled her. 

Several times. 

And saved a few photos.

What? It’s not like it was illegal! People did it all the time....

Though usually he was the one in the photos being saved--

“Ready Jaime?” the director called out and Jaime focused on the matter at hand. The sooner they got through today’s scenes, the sooner he would be able to return her call. That seemed like a good plan, right? Yeah, he was going with that. A wardrobe assistant came through and attached his cape to the magnets in the costume's shoulder and a second later it was blowing in the artificial breeze. 

“Rolling, background go and action!” the director called and Jaime was forced to push Alayne from his mind and save the world. 

Figuratively, of course.


	2. Part 2: Callback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I am certain I should be used to it because you're all amazing (but I likely never will be), I am still 100% blown away by all of the love and support you Jaimsa lovers have given this new story! We have all agreed that the premise itself is fantastic and this adventure should be a fun one (provided I do it justice)! I am using a little less formal of a writing style, something to give voice to a more 'inner monologue' sort of narrative and I hope you're enjoying it! Comedy, wit and banter are things that I love and can't wait to utilize in this story! 
> 
> Thank you SO much to 'FreakFromNorth' who made [THIS](https://freakfromnorth.tumblr.com/post/618492203687444480/my-first-picset-for-the-red-wulf-new/) fantastic picset! <3 Just for you, dear, I made sure the story excerpt from _'The Kingslayer Saga'_ in this chapter reflected that stunning top right photo ;)
> 
> A reminder, the story picset (the first one) is [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/618419834168999936/adaptationau-modern-in-which-sansas-life-is/) and the prompt/idea picset from 'BirdeBee' is [HERE](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/618248372578664448/author-x-actor-au-when-sansa-starks-critically/)

Everything hurt. 

Even his eyelashes seemed to protest every time he blinked. 

Why had he taken this role again? Oh, the money--that’s right. He hadn’t grown up a fan of comic books or graphic novels, but when the prospect of playing ‘The Defender’ came across his desk, Melisandre thought it would be a nice diversion from the normal roles he accepted. You know, roles like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Henry James, and Jane Austen adaptations.

Expand your resume, they said. 

Widen the variety, they said. 

It will be fun, _they said_. 

What they didn’t say is that sometimes, even with an easy stunt that you for some ungodly reason elected to do yourself, would make your entire body hurt. Why couldn’t _they_ have said that? _They_ were useless.

Dragging his ass from his trailer where he had finally--blessedly shed his cumbersome costume, he collapsed into the back of the town car and immediately swallowed a handful of ibuprofen with the bottle of water that awaited him. His driver knew the way back to the hotel and within record time Jaime was standing under the scalding hot spray of a shower nozzle that was only slightly too short for his above average height. 

Still, it did the trick--well, the shower and the handful of ibuprofen did the trick, and he felt a thousand times better. One towel around his waist, he rubbed at his hair with another as he returned to the bedroom proper, scooping his phone off of the comforter with a smile. 

Alayne Stone, he unlocked the screen and navigated to their text messages. After he had assured her he would call after work, she had replied with _’I look forward to speaking with you. I promise not to swear at you during our call’_ with an embarrassed emoji at the end, one that made him chuckle. 

Typing quickly, he sent a message asking if now was a good time to talk, he smiled widely when the dots popped up signalling that she was replying already. It was encouraging, and made him feel slightly less foolish when he hit dial the second her _’Yes’_ appeared on the screen. He was always shit at playing it cool, why start now?

Belatedly he realized that the phone was ringing and he was still clad in just a towel, but he couldn’t remedy that now and--

“Mister Lannister” her smooth, lovely voice greeted him and he felt his heart skip and then race in earnest. “Hello--hi.”

“Please, call me Jaime” he replied, hoping it sounded much smoother than it did to his own ears. 

“Jaime” it sounded like she was smiling and his own lips twitched in reply. “I am glad that we finally have a chance to talk.” 

“Oh?” he smirked, tossing the damp towel he’d used on his hair to the chair in the corner. 

“About the film, of course,” she clarified. “I--we---the studio has been trying to pin you down for some time but I am fairly certain that your agent is an olympic champion in refusing offers” she quipped and he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Mel is stubborn, I will give her that” Jaime agreed. “A wise idea is to never let someone know that they’re your first choice for a role, it makes the agents rabid for negotiation.” 

“Noted” she laughed softly, the sound musical and just as lovely as her voice. “That is my rookie mistake then, as I have made it very clear that there was only one person on my list to play Ser Barristan. I will be sure to correct that in the future.” 

“Flattery, Miss. Stone?” 

“Honesty” she countered without a pause. “And please, call me Alayne.” 

“Alayne” he tested the word on his lips, liking the sound. “Well Alayne, I will meet your honesty with my own, I suppose.” 

“You suppose?” she teased. 

“I would have said yes to the first offer” he admitted. “And if you offer the part to Oberyn Martell I will be shattered. I might actually cry.” 

“No, I already told them no to Martell,” she replied. “And no crying. There is no crying in Kingslaying.”

“Good.” 

“So...are you saying yes?” she asked, her voice suddenly unsure--and yet so hopeful, that he found himself wishing that he could see her face, see the expression that had crossed her features as she spoke. 

“Where are you?” he blurted out suddenly before he could stop himself, instantly slapping a hand over his face in humiliation. “Shit, I’m sorry---” 

“Now who is swearing at whom?” she teased, breaking the tension in his chest. 

“That was rude, I’m sorry” he exhaled roughly, a laugh escaping his chest. 

"At least you didn't ask what I was wearing--shit, I am sorry" she quipped and he choked on the saliva in his mouth, doing his best to quickly recover. "And I am sorry I broke my promise not to swear."

"You're forgiven" he managed to choke out, eyes watering as his breathing returned to normal.

“I am in Wintertown. I live here so it would make sense that I am there--here” she explained. “I am in the North,” she clarified needlessly and he felt a flutter of sympathy; perhaps she was as nervous as he was.

“Yes that would make sense” he nodded dumbly. “I am staying in Hornwood this week, actually. The larger outdoor shots are on the agenda and I have been staying at the Hornwood Grand Hotel, do you know it?” 

“I do…”

“Would you be willing to meet with me?” 

“Jaime---”

“To discuss the role, of course. Nothing sinister, I promise.” Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true but she didn’t need to know that right now. He could tell her that he wanted to see her laugh, see her expressions, wanted to pick that lovely brain of hers but she’d likely freak out and hang up on him. So he kept it simple. 

Nicely played, he mentally pat himself on the back. Way to go, ol' chap.

“Um” there was a pause, a shuffling of some papers and then, “Which day?”

“Thursday or Friday?” he placed the phone on speaker to open his calendar app, knowing that Pod did his best to keep the interactive Google calendar up to date at all times. Bless you Pod. “Yeah.” 

“Thursday I have a standing lunch date with my Sister, which means it will blur into afternoon drinks and then a horribly unhealthy dinner” she laughed. “But Friday I can do.” 

“Is your Sister the dark-haired girl?” Oh. Shit. He flopped back onto the bed, closing his eyes tightly against an impending wave of humiliation. 

“Yeah, she takes after our Dad---wait” there was a long pause and he felt an eternity draw out between each rapid heart beat. “You _googled_ me!” she gasped accusingly, the following laughter echoing in the hotel room. And there it was, the humiliation washed over him in full force and he could almost hear the mocking laughter of his twin Sister, Cersei.

“I did,” he admitted. 

“You. Googled. Me” she continued laughing. "Or you stalked my social media!"

“I….yeah.” 

“Oh Gods, why am I laughing so hard?” he heard her sniffle and imagined she was wiping tears of amusement from her eyes. Maybe he’d missed his calling in slapstick comedy...

“I have no idea” he forced himself to sit up, chuckling at his own embarrassment. “It's not that funny, not really when you think about it.” 

“If I think about it I will only laugh harder, Jaime” she let out a very delicate scoff. 

“People Google other people all the time” he reasoned.

“I suppose that’s true….” she agreed. 

“I mean,” fuck it, he was going for broke. “Can you honestly say that you haven’t Googled me?” he asked and there were several beats of silence, just enough to make him shift on the bed. Which wasn’t good because it reminded him that he had, rather brilliantly in fact, had elected to make this phone call in only a damp towel. 

“Alright. Fair enough” she admitted and couldn’t stop the fist pump of triumph that immediately followed. 

“Then we’re even.” 

“I suppose we are.” 

“So dinner then?” 

“Dinner” she agreed, more papers shuffling and then the nervous clicking of what he assumed was a pen came through the line. “Yes.”

“I should be off set somewhere around 6, so perhaps you could come at 7?” 

“Come…where? To your room?” she asked and he turned off speaker phone, placing the phone to his ear. Unsure of why he wanted her voice closer to his brain, it made absolutely no sense.

“It would be the most private place to discuss the movies, yes. I am not exactly inconspicuous. I would like the opportunity to speak with you without constant interruptions or having to sprint from the paparazzi” he stood, glancing around the suite that he had been given. 

“I’m a fairly decent runner,” she quipped. “Or I could simply trip you, let the wolves have you in order to save myself.” 

“That sounds like a fairly solid plan” he laughed, running a hand over his face. “There is a dining area here, separate from the bedroom...if that helps.” 

“It does” nervous laughter this time and he felt a wave of relief course through him. She muttered something and he didn’t quite catch the words. “What? Sorry I think the phone cut out.” 

“No, it was nothing” she replied quickly, clearing her throat. “Nothing, yeah. Friday, 7.” 

“Friday, 7” he agreed. “Can’t wait--shit, I don’t know why I said that” he groaned. "Sorry I said 'shit' this time." 

“You know” he could hear the amusement in her voice. “Somehow I imagined you’d be much smoother...sauve somehow.” 

“Yeah I had imagined that too” he scoffed and she laughed again. “I do nothing but let myself down, it seems.”

“No, it’s nice. It makes you seem...human.” 

“I am human” he assured her. “Or I was last time I checked” he glanced down to the towel around his waist, then his bare feet. He wiggled his toes and cringed as a few of them popped, he was definitely going to need more ibuprofen in the morning. 

“Forgive me, I don’t have much experience--or any experience really, with movie stars” she explained. “This whole movie adaptation is just overwhelming in its entirety. It is a comfort to know that even if I swear at you in a voicemail, you’ll still take my call.” 

“Well it _was_ a rather charming voicemail” he said with a small laugh of his own. And no, he hadn't deleted the voicemail, he couldn't bring himself to just yet. “And I am just a man, Alayne. I got lucky with my career, but all that celebrity stuff is just that, stuff. It isn’t me.” 

“Then I look forward to getting to know you, Jaime the man” her words were soft, genuine and it soothed his frayed nerves. 

“Ditto.” 

“Ditto” she laughed. “Alright Ditto, I will see you Friday.” 

“Friday.” 

“Friday” she repeated.

“Which one of us hangs up first? You hang up? I hang up?” he asked and she laughed, wishing him a good evening before the call ended. Lowering the phone he stared at it for several seconds before letting out a ragged breath. “Well you didn’t screw that up too badly, Lannister” he muttered to himself, tossing the phone onto the bed. “Probably should put some clothes on now, eh ol' chap?” he wandered to the closet, his brain full of anticipation for Friday’s dinner. 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_Barristan looked out over the city, his eyes burning with a mixture of exhaustion and unshed tears as he took in the destruction that had laid waste to the city in the Mad King’s wake._

_Smoke was still billowing to the sky, painting the early morning light in a sickening green-grey palette. The city was still in chaos, soldiers scrambling to assist their fallen comrades and to move the bodies of those who had fallen in the heat of battle. In the distance, the cries of a baby echoed and his heart clenched in unspeakable pain._

_He had sworn to protect this city, it's people and it's ruler, and in the small hours of the previous night he had failed them all. He had failed. When the night’s sinister darkness melted into the early dawn hours, his father, Lyonel Selmy had ridden through the city’s gates with an army meant to beat back the attack. Meant to retake the city in the name of the King._

_But they had, to Lyonel’s eternal dismay, been too late to save the King._

_Barristan would never forget the look upon his Father’s face when he strode into the Great Hall, staring with wide eyes at the Iron Throne and it's dias. Disbelief and pain had marred his features as he beheld his eldest son seated upon the hulking metal chair, the body of the Mad King prostrate at his feet, is life's blood flowing down the marble steps._

_His Father was a proud man, loyal to a fault and he would forever be ingrained in his memory the first man to proclaim Barristan ‘The Kingslayer’. That is what he was now, there was no way to avoid facing the truth of it. He had murdered the King, cut him down with a sword through his back and none, nobility or smallfolk alike, would care to hear the reasoning for his actions._

_Murder was murder was murder. The same went for regicide._

_Currently his Father was with the Small Council, working to do damage control and surely praying to any of the Gods that would listen, that his Son would be spared the worst of the Council’s wrath._

_Barristan, however, just wanted to sleep. Exhaustion had settled into every pore of his being, tugging at his very cloak, but every time he closed his eyes he saw the King’s expression as he was parted from his mortal coil. He had relived the act a thousand times already, the idea of facing this memory for the rest of his days made his stomach turn. Perhaps with time it would fade..._

_“It’s time” the deeply accented voice of his closest friend and Kingsguard Commander Gerold Hightower spoke, and Barristan turned from the balcony’s balustrade to face him._

_“How bad it is, Old Friend?” Barristan asked quietly, stepping forward._

_“Not nearly as bad as it could have been, Old Friend,” Gerold replied, reaching out to pat his shoulder, the armor on his hand clinking against Barristan’s armored shoulder. Barristan considered his commander’s words and, for the life of him, he couldn’t determine if he was referring to the night that had just passed or the punishment yet to come._

Sansa set her phone on her desk and took several deep, soothing breaths before she felt brave enough to stand. Shuffling from the downstairs office that she had turned into her ‘den of writing’, she made her way to the kitchen, more specifically the refrigerator. Opening it, she grabbed the already-poured glass of wine that she had promised herself earlier. Her very own reward for making it through the conversation unscathed. Or relatively so. 

The glass, of course, was one of the replica’s of those used in the _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ , the glass detailed with frosted vines and the lion sigil of Ser Barristan. The glass was fitting, she had decided, especially given that Jaime Lannister had all but agreed to take the part. 

“That went well” she said aloud to her empty kitchen, her heart finally slowing. Taking a delicate, ladylike sip of the Chardonnay, she sighed and leaned against the countertop. 

Her conversation with Jaime certainly hadn’t been what she had expected--in _many_ ways. Not only was he approachable, charming, and funny, but there was also a certain level of awkwardness in him that spoke to her on a level that she didn’t quite want to analyse. Or admit.

Before the call she knew that Jaime was always handsome and often sexy, talented in his craft and a man who held little sacred when it came to social media. And now her perspective had shifted from ‘Jaime the Actor’ to ‘Jaime the Man’.

A dangerous prospect. Especially for a woman harboring a delicate celebrity crush on the man in question.

She had no idea how she was going to survive dinner with him--a _private_ dinner with him. She certainly wasn’t practiced in feminine charms and hadn’t dated anyone in a long time. Okay, fine, a very long time. She was a workaholic and what little spare time she had, she spent with her Sister or at the local library where she volunteered to help with young and at-risk readers. 

She was, in a word, a ‘homebody’. She preferred quiet evenings in her house at the edge of the Winterfell National Forest or not-so-quiet evenings on the back deck of the aforementioned house with her younger Sister Arya. Like she had told Jaime--which, she wasn’t entirely sure why she had told him that to begin with, more often than not her lunches with Arya would end with them relaxing on chaise lounges watching the sunset. A bottle or so of wine might or might not be involved--okay _was_ involved, but in those secluded moments they talked about anything and everything. 

When she had chosen writing as her career, her parents and by default Robb, had hardly been able to stomach it. The Starks were a proud family from very old money and they owned most of the land in the North. They were rich and, if she were being honest, her parents were snobs. But she did not relent, she stuck true to her choice and true to her soul. It was only when her pseudonym was (once again) on the top of the best seller’s list, that her Father had even remotely looked proud. It could have also been indigestion, but she went with 'proud'.

Things grew worse again when Arya chose to open her own garage. Why would a Stark--a Stark woman no less, want to get her hands dirty for a living? Because Ayra loved motors, that's why! 

Together, she and Arya were the ‘black sheep’ of the Stark family and it was now something that they relished in. Visits to the Winterfell mansion in the hills were now limited to holidays and the occasional ‘garden party’ where attendance was mandatory. Though, even then Arya would show up in Dr. Martens with some horribly clashing outfit on--last garden party it had been a black bra under a white silk top. They’d laughed so hard in the car on the way home, they’d had to pull over to prevent crashing into a tree. 

Another sip of her crisp white wine made her tongue humm in satisfaction but then her brain leapt forward to Friday’s dinner and panic bubbled in her veins all over again. 

Dinner. With Jaime. Dinner with Jaime. Fucking. Lannister. Oh Gods...Jaime Lannister had invited her to his hotel room--why did it sound so tawdry when she said it and so charming when he had asked? That was hardly fair at all. 

She had almost slipped, barely catching herself before she muttered more words that would serve to further embarrass her (she’d had enough of that today, thank you very much). When Jaime had asked her if a separate dining and bedroom helped the situation at all, she had--before she could stop herself, mumbled ‘I hardly trust myself near a bed with you’ and _praise be_ he hadn’t heard her. 

She would have died. 

She would currently be laying beside her desk, having succumbed quickly to mortification. They might as well have paraded her casket down the street, ringing the bells and declaring ‘shame’ for all the world to hear. 

D-e-a-d. Dead.

Her phone chimed in the other room, pulling her from the awkward daydream of how her funeral might have looked. The walk down the hall passed quickly and before she knew it, her phone was in her hand and unlocked. 

_’Private dining, as promised’_ the text from Jaime included a photo of a nicely set wooden table, large enough for four but perfect for two, a large leather briefcase and a few paperbacks sitting on one side. At first glance it looked lovely, as any hotel’s penthouse suite would look, but as she clicked the photo and looked closer her eyes went wide. 

Her wine glass slipped from her fingers, crashing to the carpet. Fortunately it didn’t shatter, but it did spill onto her leg and the carpet. As the photo filled the screen of her phone, she could see the tall, lean and shockingly chiseled form of Jaime Lannister clad only in a slightly-too-small white hotel towel. A mirror--there was a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the penthouse wall and he was just visible on the edge of it.

“Oh Gods” Sansa’s cheeks were bright red as she sank into her desk chair, eyes locked on the mirror that had snuck into Jaime’s photo. Surely he did not do that on purpose? Such a photo like this would be worth quite a hefty sum to the national press. Why would he trust her, someone he had yet to meet, with this? 

It had to be a mistake. It had to be. 

The only problem was, Sansa groaned to herself as wine soaked into her fuzzy socks and squished between her toes; she was going to have to sit across the table from Jaime on Friday night…

And all she was going to see was his bare chest and that tiny, tiny, almost indecently tiny towel in her mind’s eye. 

“Gods save me” she whispered. 

_Gods save me from Jaime. Fucking. Lannister._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!


	3. Part 3: Dramatic Pause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all SO SO SO much for the love and support you've given this story so far! I am thrilled you're enjoying the relaxed, informal writing style for this piece. I think it fits the flow and humor a bit better! 
> 
> Without further rambling and reminders that I am not a writer and don't have a beta, here is chapter 3...did you think I would let them meet that quickly? Tsk, tsk, darlings ;) <3 Enjoy!
> 
> There is an easter egg in here, something (someone?) I have used in other stories, call out if you see it! ;) 
> 
> A reminder, the story picset (the first one) is [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/618419834168999936/adaptationau-modern-in-which-sansas-life-is/), the initial prompt/idea picset from 'BirdeBee' is [HERE](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/618248372578664448/author-x-actor-au-when-sansa-starks-critically/), and a fantastic picset from 'FreakFromNorth' [HERE](https://freakfromnorth.tumblr.com/post/618492203687444480/my-first-picset-for-the-red-wulf-new/)!

“What was that?” Arya glared across the patio table at her and Sansa put her phone down on the table, grateful that the evening’s sunset would help to hide her blush. 

It had not taken Sansa long to realize that Jaime Lannister had no idea what was hidden in the photo that he’d sent to her last night. While she hadn't been able to formulate a coherent or witty reply---ok, she blamed the photo, obviously, she had woken to a polite 'confirmation' text from Jaime early this morning. It was clear the man was oblivious to the fact that the ‘private dining table’ he had sought so hard to show off, was overshadowed thoroughly by the sight of his bare chest and the indecently tiny towel. 

Brought a whole new meaning to 'private dining', actually. She would like to make a reservation to dine at such a fine establishment. She had, admittedly, saved the photo to her phone and completed a thorough examination of its details--for science. It was on her third, or was it fourth? pass over his form that she realized the towel’s seam allowed for a bit of his upper thigh to be seen and she just….could not. Literally could not. Was it possible for a human being's 'thought process' to simply break? She would Google later, for... a friend, of course.

Still, the man was beautiful, she would admit that to anyone. But his looks combined with the unbearably genuine charm he had demonstrated during their brief conversation was a double-threat that she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to face. Especially not alone with him in a hotel room. 

Alone. With him. 

Jaime. Fucking, Lannister. 

With that photo tap dancing in the forefront of her memory. Mocking her...

“Sansa!” Arya demanded and she jerked back to the present. No, don’t say jerk, not when she was thinking of the towel’s seam and how easy it would--- “Oh my Gods, are you drunk already? Sansa!?” Arya’s hand appeared in front of her face, fingers snapping loudly to snag her attention. 

“What? What--What was what?” Sansa picked up her glass of wine--she didn’t remember if this was her second or third, fourth maybe? And took a sip. As was routine for their Sisterly afternoons together, the evening had found them on Sansa’s back deck, relaxing at the teak wood table, candles burning between them. 

While Sansa spent her days writing, Arya worked as a mechanic in downtown Wintertown. Arya kept odd hours, likely because she was a lifelong insomniac, but it worked well for her. Being a ‘small business owner’ was something that the Stark family took no pride in and when Arya’s small shop was a clear success to any who cared to look, the Starks had been reluctant to celebrate her. Snobs, the lot of them. Fortunately for Arya, she and Sansa drank far too much and ate far too many tacos the night that Arya's shop celebrated its first anniversary. Sansa still couldn't stomach guacamole...

Regardless, they were thick as thieves, living away from Catelyn's sphere of influence and were, admittedly, quite pleased about that. Sansa ‘scribbled’ and Arya ‘tinkered’. They were a matched set.

“Your phone has been glued to your hand all afternoon--and evening!” Arya accused.

“So?”

“You hate texting.” 

“I do not--”

“San, if I text you, you are the type of person who _calls_ to talk.”

“I prefer verbal communication---”

“You hate technology” Arya continued, leaning forward with a smirk. “You wrote your first novel on Old Nan’s typewriter from the fifties, Sansa. The _fifties_.”

“One that you found in the attic and fixed for me, for which I am eternally grateful” Sansa countered. 

“Don’t try to change the subject with flattery---” Arya’s eyes went wide as Sansa’s phone vibrated on the table, signifying another text had arrived. There was a beat of silence and then Arya lunged for the phone, nearly knocking over the table in her rush. A citrus candle and a small pot of herbs almost went flying in the struggle. Sometime later Sansa would be grateful that her thyme, and its hand-painted pot, had survived the melee.

“No!” Sansa screamed, grabbing the phone and turning away, trying to hold it out of Arya’s reach. She was able to hold it just far enough that Arya couldn't get her grubby fingers around it--another benefit of inheriting the Tully height.

“Gimme! Gimme the phone!” 

“No! Get away from me!” Sansa struggled as Arya climbed into her lap, fortunately Arya was much smaller than Sansa’s once ungainly height, but that didn’t mean her elbows weren’t sharp. “Ow! Get your bony elbow out of my tit, you beast!” 

“Gimme the phone, San!”

“No!”

“I mean it!” Arya leaned back, changing tactics and choosing instead to grab Sansa’s glass from the table. 

“Don’t. You. Dare!--No!” Sansa tried to snatch the glass but Arya drained it before she could snatch it away. Sansa glared at her younger Sister, and _unfortunately_ best friend, for several seconds as Arya loudly smacked her lips. 

“So good, this wine.” 

"Who are you? Yoda?" Sansa quipped. 

"Yummmm!"

“I hate you” Sansa said, they both knew it was a lie. In the silence between them Sansa’s phone loudly vibrated once more and she inwardly groaned. 

“Just tell me who it is? You’re killing me!” Arya pleaded as she climbed back into her own chair. "You never do anything fun, I can't believe you would hide it from me when you actually do!"

“It’s work!”

“Work?” Arya scoffed. “You’re such a bad liar.” 

“It is!” Sansa paused. “Sorta…” 

“Is he cute?” 

“Arya!”

“What?!”

“How do you even know it is a ‘he’?” Sansa asked as the phone vibrated _again_. 

“That! That stupid little smile you make every time it goes off!” 

“Arya---” Sansa’s smile fell.

“You have to give me something! Anything!” Arya begged and Sansa sighed in defeat. It wasn’t like Arya wasn’t going to find out eventually. All of this movie madness was sure to blow up and consume Sansa’s entire life soon, she couldn’t hide it forever. 

“Well” Sansa began, picking up her wine glass and shaking it until Arya lifted the bottle to refill it. “You know how we’ve been trying to get all of this movie stuff hammered out?” 

“Yes….?”

“And that we’ve been holding out for an agreement with Jaime Lannister?” 

“Yes…” Arya’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, giving her the look of a troll and Sansa almost burst into laughter. 

“Well---”

“YES! Just--for the love of wine, tell me!”

“I am having dinner with him to discuss it” Sansa felt her cheeks heat at actually saying it out loud. “In his penthouse.” Arya was on her feet in an instant, her wooden chair tumbling backwards with surprising force. 

“You’re having dinner with _Jaime fucking Lannister_?” Arya gaped, standing there like a deer in the headlights. “In his _penthouse_!”

“Scream it a little louder, Ya-ya, I don’t think they heard you all the way in The Neck” Sansa deadpanned. 

“Ah! Wow, okay--first of all, you know I hate when you call me that” Arya raised her arms, flailing in frustration. “Second---How could you keep this from me?!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous--” 

“Oh Gods,” Arya’s arms dropped to her side. “What are you going to wear? Like...is it a _private_ meal or…?” 

“This is business, Arya” Sansa interrupted. “Don’t get ahead of things.” 

“Business” Arya grimaced. “That means you’re going to wear one of those horrible suits.”

“What is wrong with my suits!? They are professional” Sansa countered. 

“They’re boxy and terrible,” Arya groaned, flopping into the vacant chair beside Sansa, not bothering to right the one she’d knocked over. "They make you look like that Vigo guy from 'Ghostbusters'." 

“Well what would you have me wear? Jeans and a band t-shirt?” 

“The red dress” Arya replied without hesitation and Sansa’s mouth went dry. 

“W-what?” she croaked.

“The. Red. Dress.” 

“I heard you, I was just hoping that you’d change your mind.” 

“Fuck no” Arya scoffed, grabbing Sansa’s wine glass from her hand to take a drink. “Red dress, nude pumps, _nice_ underwear, I mean it! No cotton--” 

“Its business---” 

“For the confidence!” Arya argued. “You’ll feel powerful and then you won’t let Lannister push you around. Unless, of course, you’re into that and then in that case, wear the pink lacey things you got last Memorial Day sale” she laughed wildly and Sansa’s head lolled back in exasperation. 

“This is why I didn’t tell you” Sansa groaned. 

“Wait” Arya sat up so suddenly that wine nearly sloshed from the glass in her hand. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Sansa’s phone vibrated again. 

“He’s sent you at least five messages in the last few minutes” Arya cleared her throat. “You’ve been texting him like this all day?”

“Not all day--” 

“Oh my Gods” Arya’s eyes were wide as saucers now. “Are you….please tell me you’re _flirting_? Sansa Stark, actually flirting with a living, breathing man! Someone alert the police!”

“What? No! What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Liar.” 

“No, I am--we are _not_!” The phone vibrated again and Sansa wanted to crawl into a hole. 

“Holy shit, San” Arya sighed, relaxing into her chair, a serene smile on her face as if she had at last claimed victory. “He _so_ wants to bang you.” 

“No! Why must you be so crude, hmm?”

“Enjoy a little bit of interior decorating, if you know what I mean?” Arya lecherously waggled her eyebrows.

“Absolutely not!” 

“Put his wand in your chamber of secrets?” 

“No!” Sansa used every bit of self control to stop from laughing, she in no way wanted to encourage this. “I’m adopted, I must be--there’s no way I am related to this” Sansa muttered loud enough for Arya to hear.

“Release the kraken--”

“Oh my Gods” Sansa groaned, covering her face with her hand to hide her amusement. 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Do you think you could, like, put it in his contract? He can have the role and whatever payment he wants, but he also has to show the author a good time?” Arya waggled her eyebrows again, laughing wickedly. “He could earn a bonus, ya know? Say, an additional 1 or 2% more of the merchandise sales for every screaming orgasm he gives you, that’s reasonable right?” 

“This is _exactly_ why I didn’t tell you! Did Mom drop you on your head or something?” Sansa laughed, shaking her head at her younger sibling's antics. Her and Arya had always been opposites, but somehow they complimented each other, even in their ridiculous, wine-fuelled moments. 

“So, what time should I be here to help you get ready?” 

“What? Arya, no.” 

“Arya, yes” Arya mocked in a sing-song voice. “5 o’clock? 6?”

“No. N-o, no. I mean it, no!” 

“Fine, but you have to send me a selfie, I want you to prove to me that you wore the red dress” Arya argued. 

“If it will get you to leave me alone, fine.”

“Good” Arya was seemingly satisfied at this arrangement, busying herself with refilling their wine glasses and relaxed into her chair as Sansa’s phone vibrated once more. “Gonna answer that?” she smirked, eyes bright with amusement. 

“Shut up.” 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_When Barristan was young, he used to sit on the balcony of the Red Keep and stare out over the ocean for hours. What would it be like, he’d wonder, to sail off into the horizon and never return. What lay beyond the end of the ocean--who lay beyond the horizon? What would it be like to runaway to a place where no one knew you name? Where no one knew your Father? Did such a place even exist..._

_These thoughts were likely due to having grown up an only child, his Father’s only son and the only hope for the Selmy name to continue on into greatness. His Mother had died when he was young--only a few years out of the cradle, and from that day forward it was only him and his Father. Which meant that his days grew lonelier and lonelier._

_For the most part he was left to his own devices, until the arrival of his tenth name day when he began to train. He had played with swords and daggers before, but the beginning of training changed everything. From the moment his Father placed the Valyrian blade in his hand, Barristan was never alone again. He named his sword--her, ‘Oathkeeper’ and she still remained his closest companion._

_For nearly two decades, they have spent every waking hour together, training and sparring from sunup to sundown, and even in slumber she was never far from his reach. Together they had fought in wars, together they had won tournaments. Together they had made his name one that struck fear into the hearts of his enemies and those who would oppose him. Barristan Selmy, the lonely little boy who used to look out onto the horizon for hope, had found it in a bit of Valyrian steel._

_And now, as the world around him was simultaneously beginning and ending, his hand settled around her hilt, the cool touch of metal soothing him, even through his worn leather gloves. He followed Commander Hightower through the gilded halls of the Palace, 'Oathkeeper' at his side, as they faced the consequences of his--their actions._

Shooting was delayed, again, Jaime sighed as he waited in the folding chair they had set aside for him to relax into. Afternoon shoots were rarely enjoyable and this one seemed to be dragging on forever. They had officially lost the light of the sunset and the evening was turning to night, much to the boredom and chagrin of the entire cast and crew. 

The only saving grace, however, was that he had been texting back and forth with Alayne for most of the afternoon and evening. It started slowly, a confirmation of the dinner here, a tidbit about their day there and soon they were carrying on an entire conversation throughout the day. He found that she was just as witty via text as she had been on the phone and every time she replied with ‘lol’, the memory of her laughter and how musical it had sounded, danced through his mind. 

Alright, so, obviously he was indulging himself, nurturing the little crush it was he had on her. Fine, it wasn’t that little. Celebrities could have celebrity crushes right? Truth be told, he had never had one before--a crush that is. Not as a full-grown adult male. Having a crush on Claire Stevenson in fourth grade didn’t really count. Plus, Claire turned into a bully in high school and thoroughly destroyed any remnant of that crush. ‘Playboy’ as he may seem, his life was one of surprising solitude; yet another reason he had connected with the character of ‘Barristan Selmy’.

His phone chirped in his hand and his attention was immediately drawn back to the device, rapidly clicking on the photo that Alayne had just sent. Her message served to prove that her lunch with her Sister had, in fact, turned into evening drinks and a relatively unhealthy dinner. The photo showed a delicate stemless wine glass on a wooden table, glittering in the sunset beside a wonderful looking slice of pepperoni pizza. 

Gods, he missed pizza. A physically demanding movie, one where he had several scenes without a shirt on, meant that his diet was stricter than ever and he missed the greasy, unhealthy foods he used to treat himself to. He would sneak them whenever he could, but often would pay for them in the gym the next morning. Well worth it, he always said.

_‘I miss pizza...’_ he replied, then noticed a reflection in the glass’s side. Zooming in, he was able to make out the faint outline of Alayne holding her phone at just the right angle to capture the photo and conceal her beautiful face. 

_‘I eat more pizza now than I did when I was in college, fun fact’_ Alayne replied. 

_‘Pizza is a blessing from the Gods #blessed’_ he chuckled to himself as he typed and adding the praying hands emoji. _‘Also, I can see you hidden in that photo…_ he added and hit ‘send’ before he could change his mind. 

“I bet you’re hungry” his attention was pulled away as his assistant, Pod, returned and plopped into the seat next to him, and revealed a plastic take-out bag that he had smuggled on set in his puffy jacket. 

“You’re a Saint” Jaime smiled widely, then frowned as Pod pulled out a sandwich for himself and handed Jaime a salad container. “Nevermind, I hate you.” 

“Smuggling food is one thing” Pod reasoned. “Smuggling the wrong food gets me booted from the set and then who will screen your calls?” he smirked. “Besides,” he added as he pulled a second sandwich from the bag, “The salad container is to hide what you’re actually eating, boss.” 

“You’re a Saint and you deserve a raise” Jaime took the wrapped sandwich--oh Gods, it was warm which meant it was a Philly Cheesesteak. “A big raise.” 

“You already pay me too much as it is,” Pod said as he began to eat. “Plus, it's a nice change to work for someone I actually enjoy spending time with.” 

“True” he tucked the sandwich into the empty salad container and carefully unwrapped it. “I was just thinking about how much I missed non-diet food.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, I saw a photo of pizza and it looked incredible” Jaime replied, taking a bite, the flavors melting into his tongue and soothing his exhaustion away. 

“You google pizza or something?” Pod asked as he ate. 

“No, Alayne sent a photo…” He trailed off. 

“So you are sharing meal photos with Alayne Stone? I thought it was just dinner” Pod paused, then gave a knowing smile. “I knew it. I _knew_ it!” Of course, as Jaime’s assistant, Pod knew that Jaime would be dining with Alayne Stone, but Jaime had hoped that the younger man would have written that off as strictly business and not read into it any further. But that was a pipe dream now, Jaime had blown his own cover. Way to go, ol' chap! 

“Knew what?” Jaime feigned innocence, taking another bite. 

“The great Jaime Lannister has finally, _finally_ found the key to his chastity belt” Pod giggled--that was the only word that could accurately describe that sound, wiping his mouth with a folded napkin before dramatically dabbing his eyes. “Our boy is becoming a man.” 

“Forget the raise, I hate you again” Jaime deadpanned and Pod only laughed harder--no giggle this time, as Jaime’s phone chirped beneath the salad container. 

“That her?” Pod smirked. 

“Shut up” Jaime smiled, unlocking the phone to read her message. 

_‘I know. Unlike some people, I check for reflections before I send photos’_ it read, with a wide-eyed emoji at the end. 

“What?” he muttered to himself, scrolling back through their messages to check any photo he had sent. He began to feel relieved as he neared the beginning of their chat, but his stomach plummeted when he reached the first photo he sent--the dining table. Setting his sandwich down he clicked the photo and zoomed in, checking it over closely only to groan as he reached the side. 

Oh. No. 

Oh. Fucking. No. 

“What?” Pod prompted, surely having noticed Jaime’s intense examination of his phone’s screen.

“The fucking mirror!” 

“What mirror?” 

“What have I done? Oh Gods….the mirror in my room---I am a fucking idiot, oh my Gods” he groaned, head lolling backwards as he covered his face with his free hand. He’d screwed this up. Not even their first meal together, and he had managed to make a fool of himself in front of Alayne. Suddenly the once-joy of having a cheesesteak tasted like ash in his mouth. 

“You sent a naked photo didn’t you?” Pod deadpanned and Jaime forced himself to glare at his assistant. 

“I am not _naked_...not entirely” he looked at the photo again, glaring--because that was not a whimper, not at all, at the exposed portion of his upper thigh thanks to the towel’s seam.

Mother. Fuck. _Sorry Mom_ he mentally apologized. 

“Something we need to worry about?” Pod asked, his tone suddenly serious. 

“No, nothing I can do now. I sent it last night and she didn’t reply, now I know why” Jaime sighed. “She must think I am the world’s biggest bimbo or the world’s horniest playboy…” 

“Can men even be bimbos?” Pod countered logically, but Jaime didn’t reply right away, he was too busy firing off a series of apology, embarrassed-face emoji riddled text messages, panic racing through his blood. “Jaime, it’s alright” Pod extended a french fry his way, waving it in front of his mouth, but Jaime only stared at the salted potato. “Maybe her not replying was a good thing…” 

“What do you mean” Jaime’s brow furrowed. 

“I mean” Pod shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t reply because she fainted at the sight of your manliness and then figured it would be awkward to reply hours later?” 

Jaime scoffed, “Hardly. Probably just fainted from laughing at me.” 

“Well, then you can only apologize and move on” Pod said as the phone chirped. “She’s replying now, that’s a good sign.” 

“Is it?” 

“You know,” Pod smiled off into the distance, absently eating the french fry he had offered to Jaime. “Back in school when I was cutting my underwear to avoid getting wedgies from the football team, getting shoved into lockers and hiding awkward boners with heavy physics textbooks, I never thought I would be here; giving Jaime Fucking Lannister advice on women” he sighed. “Me, Podrick Payne, helping Westeros’ Sexiest Man alive.”

“You’re absurd” Jaime laughed, truly laughed, as his gut unclenched and he relaxed, if slightly. Closing the distance he clapped Pod on the shoulder, “You’re a good man, Pod. Thank you.” 

“I know, you’re lucky to have me” Pod resumed eating his sandwich, motioning to Jaime’s phone. “What did she say?” 

Jaime unlocked the screen and read her message, a smile coming across his lips at her words; _‘Your secret is safe with me...and Ditto, it wasn’t a complaint, just a word of advice on reflections.’_ she had written, a winking face at the end. Somehow, ‘Ditto’ had become his nickname from Alayne. The word, lamely muttered in their phone conversation was now forever tied to him in her mind, he rather liked that.

“Well?” Pod prompted, looking over expectantly but Jaime locked the phone before Pod could lean closer. Picking up his sandwich, he resumed his secretive eating, the food once again delicious to his palette. 

“None of your damned business, Pod” Jaime said between bites, smiling at his assistant’s giggle. 

Perhaps, Jaime exhaled in relief, he hadn’t screwed this up beyond repair. Or maybe, just maybe he hadn't screwed up at all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for reading! Stay safe & sane out there!


	4. Part 4: Overture Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know y'all have been dying for them to finally meet and I was going to delay it a bit more, but alas, I cannot. This is going to span two chapters, to brace yourselves. 
> 
> Thank you for ALL of the love and support! I have been incredibly unmotivated of late, but I am doing my best. Enjoy!
> 
> A reminder, the story picset (the first one) is [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/618419834168999936/adaptationau-modern-in-which-sansas-life-is/), the initial prompt/idea picset from 'BirdeBee' is [HERE](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/618248372578664448/author-x-actor-au-when-sansa-starks-critically/), and a fantastic picset from 'FreakFromNorth' [HERE](https://freakfromnorth.tumblr.com/post/618492203687444480/my-first-picset-for-the-red-wulf-new/)!

“Everything for _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ is settled” Mel assured him via speakerphone as he finished dressing himself for dinner. “Their newest offer is more than generous and they’re also offering a portion of the back end merchandise sales, which if the movies are as successful as the books, will be substantial.” 

“That’s fine, I already told you to accept the offer” Jaime replied, holding up several ties and then decided he was going to forego one--too formal. “I don’t want this role going to someone else.”

“Well yes, but can’t you just agree that my plan certainly had them sweetening the pot?” Mel chuckled and he could see her scheming all the way from here. “You can’t just go to prom with the first person to ask, you have to make them work for it. For the night is dark and full of dollar signs.”

Melisandre Ashai was the best in the business. Shrewd and intimidating, from the moment he had hired her as his agent, she had helped him to take his career to new heights. Her client list was short and exclusive, most of her assistants handling the others while she focused on him. Of course, he paid her well for her hard work, so it wasn’t like she was slaving away for nothing. 

“So it’s all submitted? We’re confirmed?” he asked, nervously running a comb through his damp hair. 

“Signed and sealed. The courier will be delivering them first thing tomorrow morning” Melisandre informed. 

“Perfect” he smiled at his reflection. Everything was falling into place. 

“And tonight?” she prompted. 

“What about tonight?” 

“Dinner with _the_ Alayne Stone” Melisandre’s voice took on a teasing tone. “You’re finally going to get into that lovely little ‘brain’ of hers?” 

“Funny, Mel. Very funny.” 

“What can I say, I have wonderful comedic timing” she countered. 

“If you ever want to get into acting, I’ll be your agent” he smirked at his reflection in the mirror. “Then I can call the shots for a change.”

“That’s a deal” she countered, another phone ringing in the background. “I have to jet, Jaime, but promise me you will keep this--whatever this is with Alayne, low key. This series is huge. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Nice pep talk” he laughed. 

“Promise me!” she said again and the line went dead before he could reply. Used to her abrupt departures from both meetings and telephone calls, he locked his phone and tucked it into his pocket. 

Normally, the sudden ending would have bothered him but today it served his purpose well. Quite simply, he didn’t want to talk about ‘whatever this was’ with Alayne. Mostly because it was none of Mel’s business, not really. And partially because he didn’t know what ‘it’ was, because first and foremost, he wanted to get to know Alayne. Not because she was beautiful--which she was, and not because she was his favorite author--which she also was, but because since they began exchanging text messages, he had realized that he genuinely enjoyed talking to her. 

Setting aside she was a multi-time best selling author and that he was a multi-time sexiest man alive (was that really even an accomplishment that could compare? Not really…), she was an incredibly intelligent woman with a wit as sharp as any blade. He had found, with increasing frequency, the unsquashable urge to text her at all hours of the day. Now that he was at liberty to do so, he couldn’t stop from reaching out to speak with her. 

Come to think of it, he hadn’t had the urge to shit-post on social media the past few days, he had been so caught up in speaking with Alayne. That was new….he would have to see to remedying that before his fans started to think he was dead. 

Glancing to the worn and tattered copy of _‘The Kingslayer: The Fire Inside’_ that was on the night table beside the bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if Alayne would be willing to help him with a very...mysterious yet informative post.

As if on queue his phone chirped, echoing from his pocket--then it chirped again, and again...his brow furrowed and stomach dropped as he feared the worst; that Alayne was about to cancel their dinner. Quickly he pulled the phone free and unlocked the screen, only to choke on his saliva. His eyes went wide as he looked at the photo and then quickly read the following messages. 

_‘Here’s your proof, bitch.’_

_‘Oh shit--this is NOT happening.’_

_‘That was not meant for you, Ditto!’_

_‘I have to cancel dinner, I have died of embarrassment’_

Laughing at that, he quickly typed a reply, _‘Don’t you dare. Now we’re even.’_ He hit send and scrolled back to the photo, the mirror selfie of Alayne Stone clad in a stunning red dress. One of her hands was holding the phone, the other proudly displayed the middle-finger as she made a face into the lens. 

It was, in a word, perfect. 

He almost glanced around the bathroom to make sure no one was watching before he saved the photo to his phone. He had known that Alayne Stone was beautiful, he’d known that from the first time he saw her portrait on the back cover of _‘The Kingslayer Saga: The Fire Inside’_ , but seeing this real, if derpy, photo just served to remind him that she was so much more than beautiful. 

Another message popped up and he had to cut his scientific examination of the photo short to read it. _‘That was meant for my sister, FYI’_ she explained. 

_‘Understandable.’_

_‘I’m just...forget that happened, yeah?’_

_‘Forget what happened?’_ he smiled to himself as he replied. 

_‘Exactly’_ she said. 

_‘So we’re still on, yeah?’_ he asked, shutting off the light in the bathroom before moving back into the penthouse’s living area. If he stared at his hair in the mirror any longer, he’d likely rewet it and try to style it again. 

_‘Knock-knock’_ the message arrived as a firm knock sounded at the door. His heart skipped as a wave of nerves rolled in his gut. She was here! He looked at the time, five minutes early!! A quick look around proved that there were no unmentionables laying about--he remembered to check this time and so, smoothing his button down he walked to the door, opening it wide. 

The impact of Alayne Stone, here in person, slammed into him with all of the grace of a freight train, the air rushing from his lungs as she smiled back at him from beside his bodyguard, Smalljon Umber, affectionately ‘Little Jon’. Oh the picture had hardly done her justice. It hadn’t shown off the way her porcelain skin contrasted against the deep red of her dress. It hadn’t accurately depicted how tall she was in her modest nude heels, ones that had the top of her head just passing his shoulder. And it certainly hadn’t prepared him for the way her neck and collarbone drew his eyes...

“You’re early” he blurted before he could stop himself, briefly closing his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. “I mean--” 

“I will happily wait here in the hall for…” she made a show of checking her phone for the exact time. “Another four minutes and twenty-two seconds.” 

“Don’t you dare” he repeated his earlier words, stepping aside to allow her in. He nodded to Little Jon, who resumed his stance in the hall as Jaime closed the door. The sound of the door closing echoed in the room--or maybe it echoed in his head, as he stood face to face, alone, with Alayne Stone. 

“Hi” she smiled, her heels making her nearly the same height as him, a testament to how tall and slender she was. 

“Hi” he returned her smile, feeling his stomach rolling as he drank in every detail of her that he could. “Alayne, I---” 

“Wait” she shoved her phone into her clutch and tucked it under her arm before extending her right hand. “Sansa Stark.” 

“Sansa…?” he frowned, but still slid his hand into hers, her skin warm and electric to the touch. 

“‘Alayne Stone’ is my pen name, something I use to keep my private life _private_ ,” she explained. “Sansa Stark, that’s me, the real me.” 

“Sansa Stark, then. It's a pleasure to meet you” he smiled, a genuine one now as his nerves melted away. Whether she realized it or not, she had given him entry into her inner circle, into her private world where there were no barriers erected to keep people at bay. She had offered him honesty, not that he had expected deceit, but still... 

“Pleasure to meet you, too” she replied and he realized that their hands were still clasped together, not moving simply holding onto the other. “Oh..” 

“You’ll probably need your hand to eat,” he muttered. 

“Probably” she smiled, but didn’t move to release his hand. "Eventually."

“So…” he returned her smile.

“So” she held his eyes. “Get any weird selfies lately?” He couldn’t stop the laughter from escaping his throat, her eyes alight with amusement as she owned up to her mistake. 

“You know, as a matter of fact I did” he motioned to the dining area of the penthouse. "You get any near-nude selfies, lately?" 

"Oh Gods" she blushed beautifully, covering her face with her free hand.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" 

"I suppose we are" she agreed, lowering her hand to smile over at him. Jaime took a deep breath, steeling himself for an evening in her company. A subject change, he decided, was in order. 

“Well, dinner isn’t here yet, but I have some beverages if you like. I can tell you all about this beautiful redhead that flipped me off.” 

“How rude of her” Sansa released his hand then, setting her clutch on the table in the entryway before following him into the penthouse proper. “But then again, maybe you had it coming.” The click of her high heels on the tile entry did not help him to keep his attention off of her long, pale legs--not one bit. Forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand, he led her to the dining table where he noticed her eyes lingered on the mirror for only a moment.

“Perhaps I did” he agreed, watching her as she moved through the penthouse’s living area. She took in the details of the room, not pausing on the open door to the bedroom before she moved closer to the wall of glass that led to the balcony. 

“Now that is a view” Sansa remarked softly. It was indecent, really, that a novelist should have legs that long and that perfect. Tearing himself from her legs, he almost choked on his tongue as he took in the deep ‘v’ in the back of her dress, one that showed off more porcelain skin that he was mentally prepared for--really, was he preparead at all? 

Not likely. 

Sansa leaned against the balustrade, her eyes roving over the wilds of the woods surrounding them. The evening air in the North had cooled, bordering on cold, but he had the balcony doors wide open regardless, enjoying the soft sounds of the forest beyond the secluded hotel. Now he found himself eternally grateful that he had deigned to open up his room to the world-at-large. She looked like a queen here, elegant and proud as she looked out over her kingdom.

“Tell me about it,” Jaime muttered to himself, taking a second to pour them each a glass of Arbor Gold before he followed her. Stepping out beside her, he offered the glass in his left hand, which she took with a smile. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome” he replied, watching as she took a small sip of her drink. “You know, Sansa, there is something I should tell you before we move forward.” 

“Oh?” she met his gaze, amusement sparkling in the bright blue of her eyes. Her makeup was simple but tasteful, entirely complimentary to her features rather than overpowering. 

“For the sake of honesty, of course.” 

“Of course.” 

“Tomorrow morning a courier is going to deliver the contracts to the studio” he informed her. “Signed and completed.” 

“Oh” her eyes went impossibly wide. “That's--you mean…?” 

He nodded, “You didn’t think I was going to let you offer the role to Oberyn Martell, did you? That’s my role, Miss. Stark, if you please” a smirk teased at his lips and her answering laugh was one that he could never forget. 

“No, but you had me worried there for a second” she shook her head, long auburn curls falling over her right shoulder. “I suppose then, this evening is a celebration of sorts.” 

“It is” he agreed, raising his glass. “To _The Kingslayer_.” 

“To the perfect Barristan Selmy” she replied, clinking the edge of her glass against his. 

“Perfect, am I?” he countered as she sipped from her wine. 

“Well, I have it on good authority that you were the author’s first choice” she reasoned, lowering her glass to hold it in both of her hands. 

“I was, wasn’t I?” he said smugly, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders. “Damned right, I was.” 

“Careful” she swirled her wine with an idle movement. “We have to be able to get your ego back into the penthouse at some point.” 

“My ego is just fine,” he turned to face her, leaning a hip against the stone balustrade. “It is less awkward here, rather than on the phone.” 

She considered his words for a moment before she nodded, “Perhaps because I have already gotten what I wanted” her cheeks flushed as she spoke the words and he resisted the urge to trace the curve of her cheekbone. 

“Have you?” 

“Mmhmm” she sipped her wine. “I just wanted you---” her glass froze at her lips and she closed her eyes, cheeks now a vibrant red as she muttered something he couldn’t quite hear. 

“Sansa--” 

“For the role” she quickly added, opening her eyes to look at him. “I wanted you to be Barristan and I--I am terrible at this. People aren’t really my strong suit and men--good looking men aren’t something I deal with…” 

“Just take a deep breath” he encouraged, setting his wine aside to step closer. Carefully he took her wine and set it beside his own, hoping to break the tension with a bit of humor. “After all, I’ve already sent you a photo of me nearly naked.” 

“Oh Gods” she mumbled as he took her hands in his own. 

"Truly, I think I wore more in _'In the Middle'_ " he smirked, referencing a movie he'd done long ago.

"Jaime--"

“I have something important to ask you” he held her hands gently. “Sansa Stark, will you---”

“Jaime!”

“Troll social media with me?” he asked. 

Sansa exhaled roughly, laughing loudly at his words. She looked away, out over the forest for several seconds before looking back to him, nodding slightly, “Alright.” 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_When Barristan was a boy of only six and ten he had won his first royal tournament, coming out victorious in all areas to be crowned the champion. It had been hardfought and the victory tasted as sweet as Arbor Gold wine upon his tongue. He had at last, on some level, proven himself to everyone---to his Father._

_Tonight he would be celebrated in the Great Hall and his name would forever be listed amongst the winners. This also meant that he would now be tasked with crowning his own ‘Queen of Love and Beauty’, with picking out a woman from the crowd that he found more beautiful than any other._

_This task would be his easiest task of the day because he had long since picked out his ‘Queen of Love and Beauty’. When he was a man grown he would look back and realize what a mistake that this moment was, that in this moment--however innocent, he would have signed her death warrant as surely as having cut her down with ‘Oathbreaker’ himself._

_Any man not a complete fool would have crossed the distance and extended the single rose to the Princess Daenerys. It would have been easier, he supposed, to honor the Princess with being the most beautiful in his eyes. She was pretty enough, with her Father’s violet eyes and silver hair but Barristan was young and foolish...he could not stop himself._

_His eyes saw only one Lady amongst the gathered crowd. One with eyes that held the sky, hair of sunfire, and a smile that had stopped him in his tracks the first time he bore witness to it. And every time since._

_“My Lady, I would be honored if you would accept my favor and be my 'Queen of Love and Beauty',” he held the rose in front of the Princess’ Lady in Waiting, Jonquil. She gasped softly, looking to her Princess for a brief second before she carefully took the bloom from his leather-clad fingers._

_“Ser Barristan” her words held more than a tinge of fear, of warning. “Thank you.”_

_“No, my Lady” he bowed his head in deference. “Thank you.”_

“Perfect” Jaime released her hands, clapping his own together as he bolted inside the penthouse. Sansa watched him go, curious what he was up to, though knowing his reputation in the press, she was sure it would be amusing. She would never admit that she watched him simply because she could hardly believe that he was just so...wonderful. 

With every celebrity, not that she had met many, there is always this expectation that the in-person will never live up to the persona that had been built around them. Not with Jaime Lannister, however. Of course not. He was just as handsome, charming and wonderful in person as he appeared in interviews--not to mention the way his charcoal slacks fit perfectly in all the right places. She had almost fainted straight away when he had opened the door, standing there looking so...oh Gods help her, she was in trouble. 

Abruptly she grabbed her glass of wine and took another sip, hoping it would soothe her nerves. In order to prevent drinking too much, too quickly, she set the glass back beside Jaime’s and took several deep breaths, settling her hands over the delicate leather belt at her waist. While the dress had not called for it, she liked the way the leather would nip in her waist and give the dress a bit of curve--a bit of confidence.

She had been running late to their dinner--well not 'late late', just later than she had wanted to be and by the time she was escorted into the lobby, she realized that she had forgotten to text Arya that stupid photo she had promised her. Typing in haste, half-distracted by the opulence around her, Sansa had sent the photo to Jaime instead of her Sister. 

Mortified, she had scrambled to apologize, hoping to the Gods that he would just ignored the photo and not preserve it for blackmail or teasing purposes. She supposed now they were truly even, having both sent embarrassing photos to the other. That was a nice hurtle in a relationship---

 _This isn’t a relationship, Sansa Minisa Stark!_ her inner voice screamed at her and it was fortunate that Jaime returned before she could continue to lecture herself further. 

“Alright” Jaime produced a well-worn, well-loved copy of _‘The Kingslayer Saga: The Fire Inside’_ , setting it onto the stone between their wine glasses. Before she could stop herself, she reached out to touch the cover, fingers tracing over her name on the First Edition paperback. 

“This is a First Edition” she whispered. 

“I’ve had it a while, it's been to--well, by now probably every country possible” Jaime replied. 

“There aren’t many of them out there,” she reasoned. “The book didn’t really pick up steam until the second, _‘Quest of the Fallen’_ , was released. That is when everything sort of...went crazy.” 

“I bought it at the airport in Dorne if I am not mistaken” Jaime explained. “I was a bit of a sci-fi nerd as a child and this just looked...promising.” 

“And here we are.” 

“Here we are” Jaime nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket, waving it between his fingers. “You ready to break the internet, Stark?” 

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh, “What does that even mean, Ditto?” 

“You’ll see” he made to reach for her and paused, his hand mid-air. “May I?”

“This is your show, Ditto” she placed her hand into his and watched as he situated her right hand beside her glass, just close enough to touch the base before he did the same with his left, their hands framing the glasses and book in the center of the photo. “I still don’t get it” she let him do his thing, several seconds passing as he found the perfect angle and took a few photos before he was satisfied. 

“Here’s my plan of attack” he explained, signalling that it was alright for her to move. “The press--the public, they always seem to find out everything anyway and when I realized that I could control the flow of information, I did.” 

“They call you a ‘troll’, this much I know.” 

“From all that time spent googling me?” 

“Shut up” she countered and he laughed. 

“I am a troll, I guess” he shrugged, those broad shoulders tugging at his dress shirt. She was grateful that he hadn't worn a tie and she was able to see the column of his throat and just a hint of blonde chest hair hiding beneath the fabric at the top of his dress shirt. “As I see it, tomorrow morning or afternoon, the world is going to know that I have signed on for the _‘The Kingslayer’_ series regardless of where they get the information. So, why shouldn’t I be the go-to source about news regarding my own life?”

“And my hand?” 

“Creates mystery. Obviously since your nails are red they will know it's a woman--but who?” he smirked, emerald eyes flashing with a very boyish, charming amusement. He looked to his phone, typing quickly for several minutes before he held it up for her examination. The photo was, surprisingly, good though--- 

“Jaime, this looks like an engagement photo!” she blurted out the words and instantly wished that she could take them back. Fuck. 

“What? No!” he argued, turning the phone back to his eyes. “Okay, a little, but still!” 

“You’re a shit disturber, that’s what you are” she laughed, shaking her head. 

“First you flip me off, now you call me a ‘shit disturber’,” he clicked his teeth thought the action was unexpectedly charming. “And here I was going to ask you to sign my book” he produced a Sharpie marker from his pocket, holding it up between them.

“Jaime Lannister” Sansa said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “Are you asking for my autograph?” 

“Not anymore, I’m not” he chuckled, shaking his head before returning his attention to his phone. It was in that moment that an idea struck her, one so ridiculous she knew that he’d love it. 

“I have an idea” she declared, rushing back into the penthouse to grab her phone from the clutch on the entry table. Careful not to stumble in her heels, she returned to the balcony and a very confused looking Jaime. 

"Should I be worried?” he asked, his lips curved into a grin.

“Shut up and give me the sharpie” she handed him her phone, having already unlocked the camera mode. “Please,” she belatedly added.

“Oh, I like where your head’s at, Stark” he handed it to her, situating her phone and crouching a bit to get the perfect angle as her hands--clearly the ones from Jaime’s earlier photo, signed the title page of his worn First Edition. 

_‘For Jaime’_ Sansa wrote, laughing as she signed her pseudonym below it, impulsively placing a small heart above the ‘e’ in ‘Stone’. She heard him snapping away while she worked and was sure that he had captured the perfect photo to ‘break the internet’. She was certain that this photo, posted on 'Alayne Stone's' page, would stir the pot sufficiently in conjunction to Jaime's social media own revelation. 

When she was done, she recapped the sharpie and turned to hand it back to Jaime, only she hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to her in the process of seeking out the perfect photo. She drew up short as they bumped into each other, her breasts brushing against the wall of his chest. Jaime’s arm came around her waist to steady her, his large hand settling on her lower back, holding her close. 

“Oh,” she whispered, her face scant inches from his. As it were, if he were to lean forward slightly his lips would touch her forehead, she could already feel the warmth of his body soaking into hers in the cool night air. 

“Well,” Jaime whispered, the warmth of his breath drifting across her and she forced herself to look up into his eyes. Tension--sexual tension, electric, thick, and overwhelming settled between them, neither willing to be the first to speak. She could feel his body flex with each inhalation, feel his fingers flexing against her back… 

“Jaime--” 

“Incoming, boss!” the loud, booming voice of the security guard at the door sounded and Sansa jumped, quickly moving from Jaime’s arms to lean against the balcony's railing. She thought she heard Jaime cursing softly as he moved into the penthouse to meet the bodyguard and the waiter who was ushering in the dinner he had arranged with the hotel. 

Sansa was grateful for the interruption because….oh Gods, she was hesitant to think of what would have happened if they had been left to their own devices. She might have thrown Jaime to the balcony’s floor and had her way with him and that….that would have made things difficult. Right? Yeah, likely right.

 _‘So?’_ Arya’s voice echoed in her head and Sansa shook it away as Jaime appeared in the doorway. 

“Hungry?” he asked, pushing the sleeves of his button down to his elbows--Gods the man’s forearms were delicious. 

“Famished” she pushed the word out, gathering up their wine glasses with as steady of a hand as she could manage, following him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's dress is [HERE](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/zac-posen-asymmetric-neck-sheath-dress-prod222570592/), shoutout/thank you to 'jy2nd' for input and help on this! You lead me to 'the one'! :D


	5. Part 5: Overture Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 comes with its very own, brand new, rebloggable [PICSET](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/620025475112304640/adaptation-au-modern-in-which-sansas-life/)!! I hope y'all enjoy it! It is my way of thanking you all for the love and support that you've shown this story! I am so glad you are enjoying it!!
> 
> This chapter is the much awaited 'Part 2' of their dinner, complete with awkward banter, fanboys, and me busting through the fourth wall like the Kool-Aid man. OH YEAH! We could all use the laugh these days (fuck, could we use the laughs!), so we're going to skate that border of 'crack fic' like Nancy Kerrigan and have ourselves a champagne jam. 
> 
> Tags/Characters have updated and will continue to do so as we move forward/expand this plot-thingy-ma-bob.
> 
> Again, I do not consider myself a writer, I do this **for fun**. This is un-beta'd, any errors are mine. 
> 
> A reminder, the story picset (the first one) is [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/618419834168999936/adaptationau-modern-in-which-sansas-life-is/) and the prompt/idea picset from 'BirdeBee' is [HERE](https://birdebee.tumblr.com/post/618248372578664448/author-x-actor-au-when-sansa-starks-critically/)

Jaime watched as the hotel waiter laid everything out on the dining table, arranging plates, silverware and their food perfectly before standing tall. The hotel had certainly come through with the private dinner he had arranged with them. Not only had they sent additional bottles of wine, but the food and dessert looked delicious. 

“Thank you” Jaime nodded to the young man, but was surprised to see that the waiter only had eyes for Sansa. Well, it wasn't surprising so much as out of the ordinary. Biting back a chuckle, he played the rare part of on-looker while someone lost all power of thought in the presence of a celebrity. Truly it was amusing to watch.

“Sorry...you’re Alayne Stone, aren’t you?” the boy asked, clearing his throat nervously. 

“I am” Sansa nodded, setting their wine glasses onto the dining table. “You must be a dedicated fan to recognize me.” 

“Yes, absolutely--I mean” he glanced to Jaime, shifting on his feet. “Very much so” he clarified as his cheeks flushed. 

“What’s your name?” Sansa asked, her kind and friendly demeanor never faltering and Jaime could see that she was the real-deal, there was no ego or snobbery in play when it came to Sansa Stark--or Alayne Stone.

“Edd--Edd Tollet,” he replied, hands trembling as he unbuttoned the cuff of his left sleeve. Jaime watched as the younger man pulled the fabric of his dress shirt up to reveal a tattoo on the inside of his forearm. There as plain as day was the _Kingslayer_ sigil, vibrantly colored and surprisingly detailed, forever a part of his skin. 

“Oh wow!” Sansa’s surprise was, he would admit, rather charming. "I would say you're a fan, yes."

“W-would you sign it, please?” the words rushed out of the waiter’s mouth so quickly Jaime was certain that he had misheard. “I can have it tattooed over, then it will be there forever.” 

“That is dedication that I am not certain I am worthy of” Sansa laughed softly, looking at the Sharpie that she still held in her hand. Moving gracefully, as he suspected she always did, she signed Edd’s arm just above the sigil. 

“It's worthy. _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ changed my life. Thank you” Edd was so busy marvelling at the autograph that he missed the mischievous smile on her face--but Jaime didn’t miss a beat. He knew exactly where the minx was going with this.

“You know Edd,” Sansa said smoothly. “Can you keep a secret?” 

“Yes! Of course” he nodded emphatically. 

“Just for tonight, of course. Tomorrow morning is the official announcement, so you will be the first reader to know” she looked to Jaime with a meaningful glance. “But the movie adaptation has found it's 'Barristan Selmy'.”

“You mean…” Edd’s words trailed off as his eyes went wide. “Mr. Lannister is playing…” he paled and Jaime nodded. 

“I admit I am something of _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ fan myself” Jaime chuckled. “I couldn’t sit idly by and let the role go to anyone else.” 

“That’s perfect--you’re actually perfect,” Edd nodded. “Most fanfiction for the story has you in the photo sets and---” 

“Fanfiction?” Jaime’s brow scrunched and he could clearly see that Sansa was hiding her amusement--though not very well. 

“Yeah,” Edd replied. “Like fan-written stories based on the book world and stuff. We sort of just unanimously fan cast you as Barristan.” 

“Interesting” Jaime made a mental note to check into that later on. 

“Would you---I mean” he looked to the Sharpie in Sansa’s hand. “Would you sign it too?” 

“Absolutely” Jaime took the marker from her, their fingers brushing briefly--Gods, how was her skin so soft? Focus, Lannister! Working quickly he added his signature just below the sigil, admiring how the two autographs looked surrounding the tattoo. Recapping the sharpie he tucked it into his pocket before shaking Edd’s offered hand. 

“Thank you so much,” Edd looked between them. “Tomorrow, once the news breaks, I am going to share this everywhere.” 

“Perfect” Jaime beamed. “Make sure to tag us!” 

“Oh I will! 'DoloriousEdd', that’s me on Instagram, I will be tagging you for sure” Edd assured them, attitude akin to an overeager puppy as he pulled his sleeve down to cover his forearm. “Aside from your sword arm, I have the most valuable arm in the fandom now!” 

“Just don’t sell it on ebay, huh?” Sansa said dryly, giving Jaime a look that clearly read ‘what about my hands? I wrote the damn stories!’. 

“Never!” Edd looked genuinely appalled at the idea, moving at Little Jon’s side as he was ushered back to the door. “I love you guys!” Edd’s laughter was almost hysterical as he reached the door and stepped outside. 

"He _loves_ us" Jaime whispered dramatically and she only shook her head with a smile.

“This looks lovely---” Sansa’s compliment to their meal was interrupted by a thump echoing from the hallway. Looking to Little Jon, they could see laughter shaking the man’s broad shoulders. 

“He just fainted,” Little Jon explained from the open doorway. “I will see to him, boss, don’t worry” he shook his head, closing the room’s door behind himself as he departed. 

“Does that happen often?” Jaime smirked, moving to her side to pull her chair out for her. His Mother would backhand him if she even thought his proper manners were slipping, so he was going to be on his best behavior--maybe it would also help keep his body under control? 

No? Well, it was worth a shot. 

“I confess that was my first tattoo” she laughed, carefully sinking to the chair. “Thank you.” 

“Mine too, though I have signed my fair share of body parts” he agreed with a chuckle. Settling into his chair, he placed his napkin on his lap and looked at her. “Okay, so I have to know--” 

“Fanfiction?” she anticipated his question and he nodded. “I didn’t read any until I had completed the series. Some of it is fairly good, some of it not-so-good. I haven’t read much but…” she blushed, looking at her food for several seconds. “But the bathtub scene and the scene with Lady Jonquil are the most popular scenes.” 

“Lady Jonquil?” Jaime wracked his brains for the details of that scene, trying to think what could have been so intriguing. “You mean---” 

“They write smut for it, Ditto” she said softly, patting his hand in a deliberately patronizing manner. 

“Wow” he leaned back in his chair, barely resisting the urge to grab his phone from his pocket and delve into Google. “I did not know this sort of thing existed.” 

“How can you not know? I would almost guarantee there are stories for every movie you’ve done. Trust me, it's a rabbit hole. I will send you a few links” she smirked as she picked up her wine, taking a sip before they both tucked into their meals. 

They seemed to talk non-stop during dinner, so much so that he was unsure how he had managed to eat at all. There was not an awkward silence or uncertain pause to be had. It was all just as Jaime had feared; she was even more wonderful in person than she was on the phone. 

In the back of his mind, as he listened to her talk of the creative writing class that had spawned the idea for the _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ originally, he was calculating how many days he had left in Hornwood and how many meals he could reasonably share with her without stirring too much suspicion. He had obligations to the studio of course, and a few press interviews here and there, but he desperately wanted to see her again.

Seven meals, he decided--ten if he faked being sick. 

“And now I’ve bored you to death” Sansa’s words registered in his brain and it was then he noticed her frown. Damn, his mental math had taken over, he only had so much brain power-- _fix it, Lannister!_ his dick seemed to yell at him--since when did his dick pay attention to creative writing stories? Oh, right, since it was Sansa telling them. 

“Not at all, I was just doing some calculating” he probably shouldn’t have said that. 

“Calculating what?” she asked. Definitely should not have said that. 

“When I can see you again, actually.” 

“You’re seeing me now” she reasoned, dabbing her mouth with her napkin before setting it aside. 

“And I am greatly enjoying it,” he countered. “Once the news hits tomorrow, the media will be out in full force. It won’t be odd to be seen with Alayne Stone in public.” 

“You want to go public with me? Out in public with me--be seen with me, you know what I mean.” 

“Well, in the few minutes since I have posted my photo it's already exploded I am sure” he chuckled. “It's already out there in the vast forever of the internet.” 

“Very poetic. That reminds me,” she said, grabbing her phone and typing furiously. He watched her, her focus on the screen allowing him to admire her beauty. This image, her looking at her screen, would forever be etched into his mind and would surface every time she sent him a reply. She turned the screen to him, showing the photo of her signing the book that she had chosen, angled just enough to see the ‘J’ in the signature. 

“Do it” he encouraged and she clicked a few things before locking the screen and setting it aside. 

“Fuel to the fire.” 

“Perfect. To Barristan!” he raised his glass in toast and she did the same, clinking the delicate stemware together before they drank to their trolling accomplishment. 

“To Barristan.”

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_“Oh, Ser Selmy” Jonquil gasped softly as they nearly collided at the hallways curve. “I apologize, I did not see you there.”_

_“In my armor I am a hard man to miss, My Lady” he smiled down at her, feeling his heart racing within his chest. It was always this way when he spoke to Lady Jonquil, and it had been from the moment she had arrived in the capital city._

_He had been only a boy then, on the day of her arrival. But he had watched with rapt fascination from his Father’s side as she was presented to the King and Queen. He could only marvel at the length of her deep auburn hair that fell to her waist in a sleek curtain and the soft-spoken manner in which she conducted herself. He had never seen a girl as pretty as she was upon her arrival, and as they grew older, she grew into the most beautiful woman in the whole of the realm._

_As they grew, however, it also became more and more apparent that the Princess resented Jonquil’s beauty. She began to treat Jonquil as a servant, offering her only verbal barbs and cutting remarks rather than the friendship they had once shared. As the cruelty increased, it began to take a toll on Jonquil and he, more than any, could see how the burdens weighed heavily on her. Her entire body would seem to wilt beneath the pressure of angry words and well-spoken insults._

_“As if one could miss you, Ser Selmy” she replied softly. He moved, hand twitching to take hers but footsteps down the hall gave him pause, as did the subtle shaking of her head._

_“We cannot” she whispered, vibrant eyes filled with torment and sadness._

_“My Lady---”_

_“Jonquil, I have need of you. Now!” the Princess’ clipped tone demanded, giving Jonquil no choice but to curtsey politely and turn away. He watched her go, aware of the Princess Daenerys’ glare cutting through his armor and straight to his heart--as if she could stop its beating by sheer will. There was a warning in that look, but it was the unhinged fury in her violet eyes that scared him more than anything. He would protect Jonquil, somehow, some way he would keep her safe._

_Otherwise, he feared all would be lost._

Sansa wasn’t entirely certain how it had happened, but dinner had turned into drinks, and then into drinks on the balcony. Now both of them were stretched out on the padded lounge chairs under the stars overlooking the Northern forest, a glass of wine at hand and their phones in the other. 

Her high heels were discarded, laying on the balcony’s stone floor beside the chair and when a chill set in the air, Jaime had grabbed a throw blanket from the penthouse’s couch to cover her legs. It was a decidedly intimate scene, regardless of the dinner’s origins. She hadn’t anticipated it, but they had smoothly evolved from a business dinner into relaxing like old friends, and the ease with which it had happened was only slightly terrifying. 

Talking with Jaime was easier than anything she had done in her life. Sure there was a fair amount of underlying nerves and sexual awareness--okay, more than a fair amount. But he was so real, so genuine and absolutely hilarious that she had talked to him for hours that had passed in the blink of an eye. 

As anticipated, both of their social media posts had exploded and already people were frantically trying to make sense of the posts. She imagined that each of their respective groups of die-hard fans were standing in front of bulletin boards trying to connect the dots before anyone beat them to the punch. Text messages from her sister had begun to pour in as well, including several inappropriate combinations of emojis, so she decided that she would worry about those later. But it was when the following and comment alerts consumed her screen in an unending steam, that she had turned notifications off entirely. 

It seemed Alayne Stone was reaching a new and dedicated audience through Jaime’s social media. Her publisher would be pleased with that. 

Most of their fans had guessed correctly, hoping and praying that Jaime would be playing Barristan in the movies, but some had even gone the next step and commented that Jaime had seduced Alayne in order to land the role. After all, how could 'some writer' resist Jaime. Fucking. Lannister. That had been an awkward moment, her nervous laughter earning her a lingering stare that had shot through her body to settle dangerously low in her stomach. The man was pure sin, surely he knew that right? What was it that princess movie called it? The smoulder? 

Yeah, he had the smoulder in spades. He had far too much smoulder, in fact. Thank the Gods for the Spanx she had on beneath her dress (panty lines at such an important dinner would be criminal), the miracle fabric was all that was holding her together. 

“Oh wow, this one--wow” Jaime laughed, looking up from where he was reading through a few of the fanfiction links she had sent him. Of course the implication that Jaime had slept his way into the role had reminded him about the smut she had promised to link him to and much to her chagrin he had taken to reading passages aloud. From the links he had slipped down a rabbit hole of clicking, gawking, and reading. He had taken particular enjoyment over the story of Barristan in the bathtub taking advantage of a very friendly redheaded handmaiden Jonquil. _Thanks a lot, Edd_. 

“I have created a monster” she sighed dramatically. 

“Well, yes. Literally and figuratively” Jaime shrugged. “But you are the one that gave them only one night together and _didn’t_ elaborate on their implied ‘relations’.” 

“Relations?” she laughed loudly, grateful that there were no other rooms close to this, as she was sure it would have woken them. “What are you? 12?”

“I was being polite. I felt that it would have been improper to say ‘the part where Barristan fucks the brains out of Jonquil’,” Jaime replied dryly and she snorted with laughter, nearly choking on her wine. “Oh, this one has photos” he clicked and she watched his eyes go wide. “Wow, Edd was _not_ lying when he said they fan cast me…” 

“What?” she shifted, leaning over to close the gap between their chairs. Unfortunately for her, her surprise at what Jaime’s screen revealed knocked her off balance and she ended up slamming against his side, halfway in his lap. “Oh my Gods!”

“I knew that nude scene in _’In the Middle’_ would come back to haunt me.” 

“But you don’t really see anything---” 

“Studied it closely, have you?” he smirked. 

“Shut up” she retorted, looking back to the photo. It was a rather well done photo-manipulation, an x-rated reminder of why she had stopped looking at fanart. “I wonder whose peni---” 

“I don’t want to know! Why did I click that?” Jaime shook his head, closing the browser window and locking his phone. “I have officially seen too much.” 

“It happens, that is why I don’t Google my characters very often. Here. Bleach is bad for the eyes, so just drown your woes” she handed him her wine glass and he took a long drink as she righted herself, moving back to her chair. 

“Bless you” he reached to the side table and refilled her glass before handing it back to her.

“Ooh, bless _you_ ” she grabbed the glass, relaxing against the padding of her chair with a ragged exhale. “Are you sure you’re ready for all this?” she asked, her tone serious as she looked over at him. 

“Can’t go back now, we’d let Edd down” Jaime’s smile reached his eyes, assuring her that he was more than ready for the madhouse that everything was about to become. Charming and boyish though he may be, she could see that he was dedicated to his craft and to his fans. 

“True, I heard tattoo removal is expensive” she quipped, earning her another of his genuine laughs. 

“I’d have been guilted into paying for it,” he sighed, lifting his own wine glass to relax against the padding of his chair. 

“It is going to be a roller coaster,” she continued. “But it will be worth every second.” 

“I’m going to make '#DoitforEdd' a thing” he noted dryly. 

“He’ll have a massive coronary” Sansa countered. 

“Probably” Jaime chuckled. “I'll pay for his medical bills. Hey! We can invite him to the premier.” 

“You are _such_ a troll.” 

“Think we’ll do it justice?” he asked, his eyes dark as he looked back at her, the normally bright emerald green reminiscent of grass in the moonlight. 

“I have been talking with Stannis Baratheon who has committed to directing all three films” Sansa explained. “He and I are working together to adapt _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ for the screen, to stay true to the novels and the universe.” Nabbing Stannis for these films was a huge deal. He was well known for his historical epics and attention to details, she couldn’t wait to meet him and dive into world building with him.

“That’s fantastic!” Jaime agreed. “There is nothing worse than an adaptation that loses its way.” 

“I agree,” she nodded. “One misstep and you have someone burning down the entire city a la the Mad King.”

“That also means that you will be on set more often than not, doesn’t it?” his smirk was positively predatory. "Being the screenwriter and all." 

“Try not to act so happy about that” she teased. 

“Oh, I am thrilled about that,” he replied smugly. “You’re stuck with me now, Stark. For better or worse, for as long as the fandom may live.” 

“How dreadful” she sighed dramatically. “How ever will I survive?” 

“Not a clue,” he teased. Shifting his glass to his left hand, suddenly his right was in the space between their chairs, palm facing upwards. “In it to win it, yeah?” he wiggled his fingers expectantly and she took a deep, steadying breath before placing her hand in his. The awkward sort of ‘handshake’ allowed their hands to linger together for...well, probably far longer than professionally necessary. 

“In it to win it” she agreed, hoping that she didn’t sound breathless or panicky--because Oh my Gods she was going to melt right here where she sat. "For Barristan." 

“For Barristan" he repeated. "Oh, and Stark?” Jaime gave her hand a brief squeeze.

“Hmm?” 

“A favor” he paused and she looked over at him. “Write me a good sex scene, huh? Some of the dirtiest, raunchiest smut--” 

“Oh Gods” she pulled her hand from his, covering her face as she tried desperately not to laugh and encourage him. 

She failed miserably. 

But something about that failure wasn’t so bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you spot 'The Witcher' reference? ;) 
> 
> THANK YOU & STAY SAFE!!!! <3


	6. Part 6: Tilt Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much Brewery421 for this fantastic [Picset](https://brewery421.tumblr.com/post/620583793828544513/sansa-and-jaime-adaptation-the-red-wulf/)! I l-o-v-e LOVE it! <3 Check it out everyone, show her some love! :D 
> 
> Again I will start off with a huge, supreme, mega thank you to all of you for your love and support. This story is a blast to write and it gives me a chance to be a snarky smartass and I am living for it. It is a nice, light fic which balances Bad Moon Rising's heavy plot. <3 
> 
> I know that the sexual tension is killing you all, but it won't last forever, I promise. ;) Not too long now. I just really want to make sure I build it right, you know how it goes! I have edited, reedited, agonized and at one point deleted the entire chapter. But alas...Also, I wanted to mention that the snippets from Sansa's novels aren't necessarily going to be in that story's chronological order. They will likely bounce around. :) 
> 
> Normal disclaimer - not a writer, not beta'd, etc etc etc. Enjoy!

A few days after their first dinner, Sansa woke to find an absolute shit storm waiting for her on her phone. She was deep into the REM cycle when the shrill ringing of her phone, now officially breaking the ‘Do Not Disturb’ function, pulled her into the harsh early morning light. 

She knew that if there was something wrong, they would have called her home phone--yes she still had a home phone. She kept it for emergencies and her family knew to call her on that number if they needed her at any odd hour. Her cell phone, however, meant that it was very likely work related. 

And it was far too early for work. 

Ignoring the ringing she let it go to voicemail out of spite alone, choosing instead to rub the sleep from her eyes and stare at the ceiling until it stopped. 

It immediately rang again.

Whoever it was was already being a royal pain in the ass. 

With a groan of surrender she picked up the phone and checked the screen, eyes going as wide as saucers at the notifications. _Holy horror stories, Batman_ she sat straight up in bed, the blankets falling away as she gaped at the screen. How was it even possible to have that many? 

As soon as she unlocked her phone, she realized how. A half dozen missed calls and dozens of text messages from Shae, Arya, and even her oldest Brother, Robb. All of them referencing her social media. But why...oh, she choked as she opened the Instagram app and all of the notifications began to pop up. Her feed had exploded. Absolutely, positively fucking exploded. New likes. New comments. New Follows and...

 _‘1 New Photo Tag’_ she read and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. 

Oh no. 

Oh. Fucking. No. 

Clicking the photo she felt her heart begin to race as she looked at the image Jaime had chosen to share with the entire world. _‘The North has such lovely views, I think I’ll stay a while’_ the simple caption read, complete with three simple hashtags; ‘#Kingslayer #HerSelmy #DoItForEdd’. 

Oh no. 

It was a fairly harmless photograph, better than what she could have hoped for in this situation. It showed the back of her as she stood on the balcony of the penthouse in her red dress. She was barefoot, discarded high heels beside her on the stone floor as she watched the forest. Her hand was braced on the stone balustrade beside her glass of wine, the same glass of wine from his previous post. 

She hadn’t been paying attention to the movie star behind her, she was too lost in the beauty of Hornwood, and Jaime had apparently snapped a candid photo of her. Which was...well, she wasn’t going to read into why he had done that just yet. Come to think of it, how many had he taken?

It was a very intimate sort of photo, despite only being able to see the back of her. The soft light of the room, the sunset beyond...it could have been any red headed woman really, but the simple fact that he--Jaime. Fucking. Lannister., had tagged her and sent gossip skyrocketing. 

The damned man had _tagged her_ , added a caption that read like a romance novel, andsent the news surrounding the early stages and pre-pre-production status of _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ to the back burner. Now everyone wanted to know their relationship status instead. After all, Jaime had never posted a photo of a woman--one clearly not a co-star, on his account before. 

_He is such a beautiful pain in my ass_ Sansa inwardly groaned.

Not bothering with returning Shae’s or Arya’s calls, she had dialed Jaime to ask him in no uncertain terms, what the Hell he was doing. 

_‘Waging war,’_ he replied, the background noise telling her that he was somewhere crowded--was he on set already? She didn’t want to linger on the fact that he had picked up the call, on the second ring no less, when he was clearly busy. 

_‘War? On what? My sanity?’_ she sighed, flopping back against the pillow. 

_‘If I want to enjoy the spoils, first I have to win the war.’_

_‘What?’_ she gaped into the phone--what in the Seven Hells did that even mean?

 _‘Are you busy tonight? Have dinner with me?’_ he asked in that oh-so-charming voice of his. 

_‘Jaime’_ she sighed in exasperation, rolling over and wishing she could pull the blankets over her head and forget about the world entirely. 

_‘Wait are you calling me from bed, Stark?’_ his voice holding more than a hint of something she didn’t want to dwell on. Instead she wished him a rushed goodbye, disconnecting the line as his laughter echoed at the other end. 

Of course, by mid-afternoon the rumors and gossip of a relationship between author Alayne Stone and Westeros’ sexiest man alive were running rampant. It didn’t take long after that for it to become a fan ‘ship’, one complete with its own hashtag; ‘#Jaimsa’. And...oh, she paled as she was scrolling through the hashtags, it already had photo-manips. Oh Gods...

Arya found it absolutely hilarious, laughing wildly into the phone before eventually asking how Jaime was between the sheets. She had hung up on her Sister only to receive a series of graphic questions and emojis regarding Sansa’s love life. She promptly ignored them. 

Still, she was a glutton for punishment. Sansa kept coming back for more, she couldn’t stop herself. It was impossible to say no, not when she enjoyed every second she spent with Jaime. 

She honestly had no idea what they were--friends, she guessed? For one she couldn’t figure out for the life of her what he meant about ‘waging war’, and what in the Seven Hells was he thinking, posting that…that… _romantic_ looking photo on his social media?! Granted, she had many theories about what could happen if she let it, about what she wanted to happen. She wasn't a fool, she could feel the underlying sexual tension between them, their conversations were filled with subtle and not-so-subtle flirtations and she couldn’t push the thought of climbing Jaime like a tree from her mind. 

What? She was only human, don’t judge.

Still, the once-wounded side of her heart advised her to proceed with caution. Jaime was a charming and flirtatious man, a very famous man, and she couldn’t throw herself at his feet if this was only a passing flirtation to him. She had to protect herself, otherwise she’d look like a fool and have to endure daily mortification as they made three movies together. 

At their first dinner together in his penthouse, she hadn’t left the hotel until late into the night. Time flew by and when she realized it was nearing the hour of the wolf, she’d gasped aloud. 

They had parted with an awkward handshake-turned-half-hug and a promise that she would text when she made it home safely. Little Jon silently snuck her out of the hotel’s side entrance and to her car, where she promptly sat for ten minutes before driving off. She had needed that time to gather herself, to take deep breaths and think about the fantastic evening she had just had. She needed that time to have a mini-freak out. It took quite some time for the warm and fuzzy feeling that had consumed her to fade. She still wasn’t sure it had faded entirely.

Jaime Lannister was….wow. The impact of his presence was a powerful one, like driving your car at a hundred miles an hour, threading the needle through traffic and lingering right on the edge of control. Exhilarating but millimeters from complete combustion. He was witty, sarcastic, charming and very well-read. Reading was his main pastime while he travelled and she was glad to see they had several favorites in common. 

Of course, his chiseled jawline, dimples and vibrant eyes didn’t hurt. At all. Nope. 

All of this combined served to explain why she was here.

“This is insane” Sansa muttered to herself, though her legs never stopped moving, they just went on carrying her closer and closer to the source of her insanity. It was fortunate that her tweed coat was buttoned and belted tight, the chill in the Northern air held more than a hint of winter. Her ‘VIP’ badge hung on a cheap lanyard around her neck and with each gust of wind it threatened to smack her in the jaw.

Maybe it would smack some sense into her.

All around her people were hustling, paying her no mind as they moved like worker bees while others barked orders. It seemed surreal--ironically like a scene from a movie, she could hardly believe she was walking through a movie set. A real movie set. 

If she had known this is what her evening would hold, then she might have worn something nicer than her dark jeans, boots and tweed coat over a grey sweater--then again, this was a very nicely put together ‘casual’ outfit, which is what Jaime had promised when he coerced her via text message to have dinner with him again. 

Not that she put up much of a fight.

Walking beside her was Jaime’s assistant Pod, who was already proving to be unfailingly kind and shockingly organized for a man. What? It’s true. He had been waiting at the security checkpoint for her arrival and the moment she emerged from the hired car he placed a large paper cup of coffee in her hand. Two creams, two sugars, just like she took it, she didn’t question how he knew that. Originally a car was supposed to bring Jaime to her so that they could go to dinner, but he was running late on set and sent the car ahead to fetch her so as not to make her wait forever. 

Absently she wondered if she could steal Pod away from Jaime, he would certainly be a help as the chaos of the big-screen adaptations moved forward. Already her social media was out of control and Shae was having a field day with all of the phone calls she was receiving regarding the project. 

Shae had come unglued yesterday when ‘@DoloriousEdd’ posted a photograph of his ‘updated’ forearm tattoo, tagging Jaime and Sansa together in the post. The fact that Sansa had spilled the beans about the movie before the official press release had definitely been a risk Shae hadn’t wanted Sansa to take. Of course, all had been forgiven when Shae announced that she had once again received a pay raise for her work with ‘Alayne Stone’. She had even promised to buy Sansa something pretty. 

Fat chance of that happening.

“He’s just over here” Pod motioned to an array of cameras and teleprompters, a few people standing around them talking heatedly. Jaime was standing a few feet away, clad in a very tight leather costume that was likely going to be the centerpiece of many female fantasies once this movie was released. 

Sansa stayed out of sight as Pod made his way to Jaime’s side. From her hidden vantage point she could observe one of the most famous actors in Westeros in his ‘natural habitat’. Would he be handsome as usual? Or perhaps overly focused? No. To her surprise he looked...bored. There was a shorter woman in front of him working quickly to touch up his makeup, but he stood stiffly, fingers drumming on his thigh to some unheard beat. Pod reached Jaime’s side and she watched as Jaime’s entire demeanor changed. His eyes went from glossy-bored to awake and alert, moving quickly over his surroundings to land on her. 

“Oh” she muttered as his lips curved into that stunning smile of his. Once drumming fingers now served to usher the makeup artist away and then he was moving--oh Gods, who gave this man a cape? Why did he have to have a cape? She couldn’t feel her feet from the cold, but other parts of her were suddenly very, very warm.

“What do you think?” Jaime held his arms out as a means to show off his costume and she was momentarily distracted by the flex of his arms in the tight leather armor and almost choked on her own saliva.

“It’s….” _awful, take it off immediately_.

“Ridiculous, I know” Jaime laughed, the sound drawing the attention of a few of the crew members around them. Suddenly Sansa felt like she was in a fishbowl, everyone observing her and Jaime’s obviously friendly interaction. She could only hope and pray that they didn’t recognize her from Jaime’s post--which they most likely did, her hair wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“It's not too bad” she managed to keep her voice under control. “But you’re breaking Edna’s golden rule.” 

“What’s that?”

“No capes” she shrugged flippantly.

“I didn’t have much say in regards to the costume” Jaime replied. “Can’t really change the look of a cherished comic book character too much. I confess, I am more than ready to trade this baby in for some metal armor.” 

“Oh really?” 

“I’ll be done with this movie in a couple weeks and then I get to work on this really awesome book adaptation” he smirked. 

“Any book I’d know?” she played along. 

“Probably not, it's just some small time fantasy series” he quipped. 

“Small time, huh?” she grimaced. “Sounds dreadful.” 

“Absolute torture” Jaime agreed. “But the writer promised me really steamy, raunchy sex---” 

“I did not!” she protested, smacking his arm. As her hand landed on the armor over his bicep, she froze. She had not noticed, but at some point in their conversation he had moved closer--or had she moved closer? and now his cape was brushing against her legs in the breeze. “Oh…” 

“What? Something wrong?” Jaime’s smile fell, the air around them suddenly electrified. 

“No, I…” she shifted back, making sure the space between them was respectable--platonic. Jaime noticed the action, however, frowning deeply. 

“Ah” he exhaled roughly. 

“There’s just...so many people watching,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s alright” he replied as his name was called from behind, summoning him back to the set. “I’ll be done soon, and for the record Stark I don’t care if people are watching or if you stand close” he said the last part softly and whirled away, cape billowing behind him. Sansa watched him go, surprised that when he turned back to face her from his mark, all trace of Jaime Lannister was gone and in his place stood a truly imposing superhero. 

Wow.

“He has that effect” a deep voice said beside her and she gasped in surprise. She had been so focused on Jaime she didn’t hear the man’s approach, that was embarrassing. She almost gasped a second time when she turned and looked up, up, up into the grey eyes of Sandor Clegane. 

As a little girl, she had often imagined what it would be like to meet someone famous. She would think about how she would be remarkably poised and elegant, much more so than all of her school mates. She had done alright with Jaime she supposed--aside from swearing on his voicemail and flipping him off in a photo, that is. But here...she absolutely blew it. 

“What happened to your face?” she blurted out before she could stop herself, eyes immediately going wide as she slapped her hand over her mouth. _Fuck_ she inwardly cursed herself. Sandor, however, boisterously laughed his ass off, the sound echoing around them. “Oh my Gods, I am sorry!” 

“You don’t read comics, do you?” he said once his laughter died down. Sandor Clegane hadn’t been in many movies but the ones he had done, he dominated the screen. He was well over six and a half feet tall, shredded--not that she noticed, and almost always played the bad guy. Being intimidating came naturally to him, it seemed. He was like a hairy Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson--okay no, that wasn’t a visual she needed. 

“Not in depth, obviously” she sighed. “I'm so sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you and...that” she motioned to the deep, horrific bruising and blood that covered his entire face. His nose was crooked, top lip split open, one of his eyes was almost swollen shut and the other had broken capillaries that made her eyes water to think about. Logically she knew that it was special effects makeup, of course, but the result was gruesome and very unexpected. 

“I’ll send the makeup team your compliments” Sandor’s deep voice rumbled as the director called for ‘action!’ in the background. “I’m Sandor Clegane, I am the villain of this picture” he offered his hand. 

She took his large hand in hers, shaking it briefly. “Sansa Stark, nice to meet you.” 

“You too” he nodded, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “So you’re Jaime’s…?” he prompted. 

“Friend?” she croaked out with a confused expression that she knew made her look very derpy. “I am writing his next movie and we’re...friends, I guess?” 

“Oh you’re a writer?” he replied, brows raising in interest. 

“Novelist, actually” she explained. “Currently I am helping Stannis Baratheon adapt a few of my books for the screen.” 

“Not _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_?” he gaped, the scar makeup pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re ‘Alayne Stone’?”

“The one and only” she assured him, taking a long drink from her coffee. She sighed as the warmth spread through her, chasing away the chill. 

“Jaime’s going to be Selmy then? I thought I had heard talk of that.”

“He is,” she paused. “Have you read them?” 

“Aye” he nodded. “You wouldn’t be looking to cast the rest yet, are you?” 

“Why? Interested?” she snarked. 

“I’m no Selmy but I think I would make a decent 'Hound',” he said smugly, stroking a hand over his square jaw. 

“Hmm” Sansa made a show of turning to face him, immediately agreeing with his deduction. He certainly fit the bill physically, large and terrifying. “I’m not sure, call me a ‘cunt’,” she prompted, calmly sipping her coffee. 

“W-what?” Sandor’s jaw fell in confusion. 

“You said you’d read them--” 

“I have, that doesn’t mean I want to call you a ‘buggering cunt’!” he grumbled when he realized that he’d played right into her hand. 

“Perfect” she chuckled. “I will tell the studio to get in touch with you.”

“Cut! We got it. Alright, you’re done for today Jaime, thanks for sticking around. Someone get me Clegane!” she heard shouting in the background and she turned away from Sandor to see Jaime already approaching, making a b-line for them. His expression was unreadable, jaw tight and eyes dark with something that she couldn’t quite define, not until Jaime reached her side. He didn’t stop until he was _very_ close, his hand settling on her lower back in what could only be described as possessive.

Oh. 

_Oh._

“At ease Golden Boy, she’s all yours” Sandor chuckled, raising his blood-stained hands in supplication and Sansa felt her cheeks heat. It was obvious to any who had seen that Jaime Lannister had just staked his claim. 

Doesn’t care when people are watching, indeed! 

“Clegane, you’re up!” the director called, saving them from any further awkward conversation. Jaime smiled at his co-star, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and Sandor ambled away with a chuckle. 

“Jaime, what--” 

“Stark, I believe that I owe you dinner” he interrupted, his eyes now free of warning as he smiled at her. Gods that smile made it hard to think and impossible to be angry. 

“You owe me a lot more than that after the stunt you pulled on Instagram this morning” she narrowed her eyes at him, her smile making the glare harmless. “They’re calling us a ‘Jaimsa’ now!”

“I thought that was pretty clever myself,” he smirked. “So, am I going to lose my phone privileges?”

“You just might if you’re not careful” she countered. 

“How about I promise to leave my phone in my pocket during dinner?” he stepped a fraction closer, his cape once again dancing around her legs. 

“A-Alright, that is acceptable,” she glanced at his outfit. “First you have to lose the cape, Ditto.”

“Deal.” 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_Barristan stared at the doors to the Great Hall, the doors that led to the Iron Throne. Beyond those gilded masterpieces, his judgement awaited him. For this single moment in time, everything seemed suspended--like a dream. Or a nightmare._

_He stood tall as he awaited his audience, he was either a hero or a villain, and yet somehow both at the same time. He had killed the King. He had betrayed and killed the man he had vowed to protect through all things, and he did so without a second thought. He had committed the highest of treason. Regardless of whether it was for a good cause or not, he had committed regicide._

_He could already hear whispers of other members of the court, other knights lingering in the hall. ‘Kingslayer’ the word burned through his armor like acid, ripping at his heart. Commander Hightower had gone in ahead of him, speaking with the Princess--the woman who would soon be Queen, on his behalf and Barristan knew that things did not bode well._

_After all, Daenerys had seen to Jonquil’s death as surely as running the blade through her heart herself, she would do anything to see Barristan suffer. He would be stupid not to be afraid of her. His Father was in there as well and Barristan found that the idea of facing his Father was almost more terrifying than facing the Queen._

_Movement to his right had his gaze moving to a large, filthy and familiar figure. A friendly figure, nonetheless. The Hound, of course he had survived the battle. In fact, Barristan wasn’t entirely sure that The Hound was mortal at all. Fire, battle, plague, the man had survived them all and wasn’t too worse for the wear. Crude, uncouth and violent as he was, The Hound was a man in possession of a powerful sword arm and solid beliefs in right and wrong. His moral code was as unshakable as his muscled frame._

_“Selmy” The Hound grunted out a greeting, removing his twisted helm to stare down at him. While Barristan was not a small man, he looked like a child next to The Hound’s hulking figure._

_“Hound” Selmy nodded in reply. He had trained and fought alongside The Hound for over a decade, an odd sort of accord and friendship having come to light between them. They would never be overly friendly but they’d toppled dynasties beside each other, that had to count for something._

_“I ‘eard ye ran ‘im through” The Hound said without preamble, his Highland accent thick and tone dark. He never was a man to mince words, why start now?_

_“I did.”_

_“Good” The Hound ran a meaty, blood-stained hand over his thick beard. “I ken the fucker right deserved it.”_

_“Tell the new Queen that” Selmy scoffed, shaking his head. “I am sure it will be the gallows at sunset for my treason. Or perhaps the block at dawn, she always has had a flair for the dramatic...just like her Father.”_

_“Well then” The Hound turned to face him, a ghost of a smirk tugging on his burnt and twisted lips. “We’ll just ‘ave to see that that doesnae come ta’ pass, won’ we?” he replaced his gruesome snarling golden dog helm back upon his head and strode away, letting the mysterious threat hang in the air around Barristan._

“You know,” Jaime mock-glared at Sansa across the table. “Your plate is right here” he tapped the edge of her dinner plate with his fork. 

“Oh, I know” she smiled smugly, holding eye contact as she reached out to take another french fry from his plate. “But let me just tell you; I like you Jaime, but I _love_ carbs” she popped the stolen fry into her mouth before returning her own meal. 

Once he had changed out of his superhero duds and into dark jeans, a button down and leather jacket, they had departed from the bustling movie set. The studio provided chauffeur had piloted them towards downtown Hornwood which didn’t boast much in the way of nightlife, but it did have several restaurants and a few pubs littered amongst the tourist shops. 

They were currently tucked away in the back corner of the Hornwood Diner--Jaime’s pick since he had been suffering from fried food withdrawals, doing their best to eat with dozens of eyes watching their every move. Occasionally someone would approach and ask Jaime for a photo or an autograph, but for the most part people seemed content to observe. Fortunately they had managed to evade any fangirls thus far.

He was used to it, to always being watched, but he could tell that Sansa was a little uncomfortable, which tugged at his gut. He didn’t want her to suddenly decide that his life was too public, too exposed and refuse to spend time with him. That was in fact the polar opposite of what he wanted. 

Besides, he reasoned to himself, soon she would be just as famous as he was. Once _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ hit theatres, the entire world was going to know her face. Especially since he had every intention of having her on his arm at every premiere. 

So, he was planning ahead...so what? His father always said that he needed to get his ducks in a row, might as well start now. 

For tonight he was merely grateful that she was even speaking to him at all after the ‘stunt’ he pulled that morning. Sharing it had been a moment of impulse, just like taking the photograph itself was an impulse. He had been unable to resist the need to share that image with the world. It was simple, poignant and perfectly captured their first meal together. Perhaps subconsciously it had been his own way of staking a claim before the vultures of Hollywood began to circle. 

It may be a battle, it may even be a full fledged war, but Jaime was determined to win her. She was incredible; beauty and brains with a quick wit that never ceased to make him smile. He planned on having her around for as long as humanly possible, for as long as she wanted to be at his side. 

Hence why seeing Sandor Clegane smiling down at her had raised every defensive hackle in his body. There was nothing scandalous about their body language or proximity, but Jaime had still felt the immediate and pressing need to make his intentions clear. Damned clear. He might as well do it now, nip it in the bud, Sandor was a big man and Jaime likely wouldn’t have much luck in a physical brawl. He could see Sansa’s initial confusion at his actions, and then her eyes were full of questions that he didn’t want to answer quite yet, so he’d cut them off and dragged her to dinner. 

In the privacy of the car, Sansa had explained that Sandor expressed an interest in playing ‘The Hound’ in _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_. Jaime begrudgingly agreed that he would be a good fit for it--a side bonus being that they would get to fight alongside each other in this story, rather than beating each other up like their current project. 

Maybe then his eyelashes wouldn’t hurt after a day of fight scenes. His ibuprofen budget was already shot as it is.

“Where’d you go just now” Sansa asked and he looked up from his plate, completely surprised that he had been staring at it, lost in thought. 

“Just wool-gathering,” he picked up the second half of his burger. “Sorry about that.” 

“If you’re tired we can cut the evening short, I would completely understand” she replied. “We haven’t talked much about business anyway.” 

“I happen to enjoy talking non-business with you, Stark” he assured her. “And while I am tired, I did spend all day getting tossed around by a lumberjack mind you, I would rather enjoy dinner in your company.” 

“Alright” she gave a small smile, her cheeks flushed in that perfect way. He saw that flush earlier today as well, when she realized how close they were standing to each other on set. Her eyes had gone wide, cheeks flushed as her breath caught in her throat. That sound, that small, throaty sound had nearly brought him to his knees. That small sound confirmed that she was just as _aware_ of him as he was of her. 

A very promising discovery. 

“Besides” he took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “There is an ice cream shop on Main Street and I remember _someone_ claiming that Hornwood Creamery makes the absolute best lemon sorbet.” 

“How do you even remember that?” she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as she chewed. 

“I have a good memory for important facts,” he explained. “Especially when it comes to food.” _'And when it comes to you'_ he mentally added but wisely did not say it aloud. Perhaps his brain-mouth filter was improving! 

“Well they do have excellent sorbet. I blame my Mother really, she claimed that she only ate lemon sorbet and cheddar cheese when she was pregnant with me. The addiction started in utero.” 

“I will file that fact away for use in the future” he briefly imagined how stunning Sansa would be when pregnant but his thoughts died when her fork clattered to the plate and she scrambled to pick it back up. 

Nope, the filter was not improving. False alarm. Stand down everyone.

Fortunately, he managed to keep his shit together for the remainder of dinner, no small miracle. After a brief walk down Main Street they finally had cups of the ‘famous’ lemon sorbet in-hand. He was doing his best to ignore the way Sansa’s looked as she tasted the ice cream, to _not_ hear that little sigh of contentment she gave after each spoonful. He did his best, that is not to say he did well. Thank the Gods for cold weather, he thought. The crisp Northern air was just the cure for untimely arousal. 

“Isn’t this the best?” Sansa was practically bouncing on her booted feet as they stood beside a large antique lamppost. The Creamery was over-crowded enough to be stuffy, so it was either stay inside and endure it, or step out into the cold and endure that. They had chosen to enjoy their sorbet out in the fresh air.

A flash of light up the street altered him to the small crowd of photographers that were thankfully keeping their distance. For the moment, at least. Likely one of the restaurant patrons had tagged where they saw him and the paparazzi had immediately flooded downtown. They were an unending constant in his life, one that he tolerated as best he could, coping with them by trolling social media as often as possible. They were probably rabid for some juicy tidbit, having already been worked into a frenzy by his vague posting from the past week--and this morning. Thankfully, Sansa hadn’t noticed the paparazzi’s presence and he wasn’t about to point them out. He would keep his attention on her and their evening together. 

“It is very good, I will give you that” he agreed. “However, in King’s Landing there is a really great gelato place, I haven’t had their lemon but their raspberry is superb” she smiled over at her. 

“We will have to go then” she stated matter-of-factly and Jaime felt a flutter of hope coming to life in his chest as he took another bite of his sorbet. “That reminds me…” she trailed off, shifting her sorbet to one hand she produced her phone. 

“I thought we agreed ‘no phones’,” he teased. 

“No, Ditto, you lost your phone privileges” she smirked up at him, unlocking her phone and opening the camera. “You wanted war, right?” 

“I never said--” 

“Smile, Ditto” she stepped back and raised the phone. Jaime scoffed, then made a ridiculous face before breaking out into laughter. 

“How do I look? Fabulous?” he nodded to her phone but she pulled it close to her chest. 

“Oh no” she shook her head, tucking it away. “You don’t get to see and you don’t get to know _when_ I am going to post it. You wanted a troll war, you’re going to get one” she took a napkin from her pocket with the free hand and moved closer. 

“What--” he felt his throat constrict as she stood only inches away now, her hand lifting the napkin to wipe at the corner of his mouth. _Shit_ , he had sorbet on it in the photograph, didn’t he? _Way to go Lannister._

His brain wouldn’t let him beat himself up too badly, however, because it was now too focused on the important task of cataloging every detail of Sansa Stark. Standing this close to her he could see every freckle, every eyelash. He could even smell the subtle fragrance of her perfume, something sweet and rosy. 

Her hand lowered from the corner of his mouth, pausing its descent to rest over the zipper of his leather jacket. It must have been then that she realized how close they were standing. Her lips parted in silent surprise, eyes darting to his. He had the distinct pleasure of watching the flush spread across her cheeks, one that had nothing to do with the cold weather and was entirely due to their intimate proximity. 

“Jaime--” 

“Sansa--” they spoke at the same time, the air between them heavy and electric. Several moments of silence passed and Jaime allowed himself to lean closer. The tip of her tongue brushed her lower lip and he swallowed a wave of nerves as he allowed his head to lower, his lips on a mission to taste hers--

“There he is!! Jaime Lannister! Jaime Lannister! OH MY GOD! That’s Jaime Lannister, its really him!!!” the yelling of several women a short distance away broke into their privacy and the haze that had surrounded them both. Sansa stepped back abruptly, her hand falling to her side as she broke free of their moment and distancing herself as the women frantically approached. 

_Fuck_ Jaime took a deep breath, desperately trying to quell the fire in his blood. 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! Stay safe!


	7. Part 7: Deep Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I will start off with a huge thank you to all of you for your love and support. This story is a blast to write, and while I have no idea how long it will be, it should be fun! Sweet and fluffy!
> 
> This chapter is just a little filler fluff, and something to make up for the gap between updates ;) 
> 
> Reminder that the snippets from Sansa's novels aren't necessarily going to be in that story's chronological order. They will likely bounce around. :)
> 
> Normal disclaimer - not a writer, not beta'd, etc etc etc. Enjoy!

Sansa was once again distracted. Pulling her fingers from the keyboard she took several deep breaths, attempting to bring herself back under control. Usually she was able to escape into her own world of fiction and let the world pass her by, but today that was proving more difficult than ever. 

Why? That was easy; Jaime. Fucking. Lannister.

Jamie. Lovely. Wonderful. Handsome. _Fucking_. Lannister. She sighed, deflating to let her forehead rest on the cool wood atop her antique desk. 

She was certain, 99.9% at least, that he had been going to kiss her on the sidewalk before they were interrupted. She had felt, in that moment, that he was going to lower his lips to hers and steal a kiss that would surely be the most wonderful, lovely kiss she’d ever experienced. Between them was a physical awareness that she hadn’t experienced before. There was an easy friendship and even easier path that allowed them to slip into flirtation but still, they were locked in limbo. There, on that sidewalk she had felt the heat of his body, felt the shift as he moved closer--but no. 

Instead they had stepped apart and she watched as he dealt with the oblivious gaggle of fangirls. Autographs, selfies and them blabbering on for what seemed like hours about how much they adored him; no wonder the cocky bastard had an ego the size of Dorne. They had barely spared her a glance, which was fortunate for Sansa, as it had allowed her to sort out and post her candid photo of Jaime. 

It was perfect, really it was. He was grinning like a fool, ice cream on his mouth as he clearly enjoyed his sorbet. She had also captured the absurd face he had made before he smiled, but she was keeping that for her own personal collection. She felt that that photo showed an intimate moment between them and she didn’t want to blast it out into the universe.

So? Don’t judge. Rude. 

Instead she posted the genuine laughter-slash-smile with a simple caption that read ‘I guess the Northern views are alright... #Kingslayer #Delicious “TwoCanPlayThisGame #DoItForEdd’. Posting it while Jaime was occupied allowed her to sneak it past him, giving her a few extra hours to relish in her new found trolling success. She was certain that Arya and Shae would give her a hard time about the post, but Sansa had no intention of letting Jaime win this little game of theirs. Besides, at the very least the publicity was good, right? Right? Tucking her phone into her pocket she enjoyed the remainder of her sorbet and when Jaime was, at last, free of his super fans, they returned to the hired car.

The driver had dropped her at her doorstep, Jaime slipping from the backseat to admire her secluded home at the edge of the woods. 

_“So this is home?” he smiled, looking up at the house she had purchased after her first huge royalties check from the publisher. It was, on the outside, a log cabin with large flower beds in the front and a backyard that went straight into the forest. But on the inside it was all modern, with fantastic appliances and cosy rooms to relax in, most with stone fireplaces._

_“It is; it is my escape” she replied._

_“Looks perfect” he decided with a nod. “I like it.”_

_“Then you’ll just have to come over for dinner sometime” she blurted out the words before she could think them through. She wasn’t entirely sure that more time with Jaime was good for her...anything--everything._

‘He would be good to your body’, her inner voice stated plainly as she recalled last night’s conversation. ‘If you let him’.

Stop it! 

‘Lannister is preciousssss’! 

Shut up, she hissed back. At this rate, she will be a lovely ginger-haired replica of Gollum in no time. It was exactly this that got us into this situation. Oh, and what was this situation? Sansa rolled her forehead to the side to look over at the clock; three hours. She had three hours until Jaime came over for dinner. Jaime. Here. Dinner. 

“Oh Gods” she picked up her head from her desk, inhaling roughly as a means to re-inflate her sense of purpose. It had started as casual enough; she had woken to a snarky text from Jaime about her secret instagram post and their conversation picked up from there. A little banter, a little flirting (was it flirting? she thought it was) and before she knew it, when Jaime said that he had miraculously secured the night off, she had invited him for that dinner she promised. 

His affirmative reply had come at light speed and now she was looking down the barrel of another evening alone with Westeros’ sexiest man alive. How was she going to manage to keep him at arm’s length when he was in her haven, her home. Simple, she wasn’t. She was going to end up throwing herself at his feet like a cat in heat and then...then she could only pray that whatever it was between them didn’t explode in her face and end her career in film before it began.

'Would be totally worth it though' her inner voice giggled.

Shit. 

Double shit. 

What was she going to wear? What did one wear when they were doing their best no to appear desperate? It was at that moment that her front door burst open and Arya showed herself in. Thank the Gods, Sansa praised, she needed the distraction. 

“Alright bitch!” Arya laughed, carrying several large bags by her office door and into the kitchen. “I got what you asked, you owe me.”

“Great” Sansa muttered, saving her story progress and leaving her office to pad down the hallway. Arya was placing several bags on the kitchen island, bustling about to unload groceries and muttering to herself. Arya knew her kitchen as well as Sansa did, so she was moving with her usual quick efficiency. “Need I remind you, you did offer to run to the store for me.” 

“Well yeah” Arya replied without pausing her work. 

“How's the new motor?” Sansa asked, knowing that Arya’s offer of running an errand for her was only an excuse to try out the new motor she’d put in the ancient pickup truck she was currently restoring. Gearhead that she was, Arya wasn't the type to waste precious fuel.

“Perfect, of course” Arya paused to send her a beaming smile. “I built it after all.”

“Good” Sansa froze when Arya deliberately moved a grocery bag aside to reveal a pink and white striped bag sitting on the counter. “Arya--” 

“Sansa” Arya mocked. 

“You did _not_!”

“I fucking did” Arya scoffed, lifting the bag to hurl it in Sansa’s direction. She scrambled to catch it, the familiar perfumed scent that seemed to cling to everything from this store wafting into her face. “You should have seen the look on their faces when I walked in” Arya motioned to the coveralls tied at her waist and oil stains on her white tank-top. 

“You went in _there_ like _that_?”

“Oh hell yeah” Arya put the last of the groceries away. “Consider it my congratulations gift to you.” 

“Congratulations for what? We already celebrated the movies.”

“Congratulations for the impending breaking of your ‘dry spell’,” Arya winked. 

“Dry spell--Arya! Damnit!”

“What’s it been? Five? Six years?”

“Longer than that,” Sansa admitted. 

“Sansa, you’re twenty-six!”

“So?” Sansa replied. “Fine, I haven't...ya know, since college.” 

“Oh my Gods,” Arya groaned. 

“I was focused on my education and career,” Sansa reasoned. “And never really gave it a second thought…” 

“Until now” Arya finished for her. 

“Yeah” Sansa knew her cheeks were bright red. “Until now.” 

“That bag will help” Arya pointed to the pink and white in her hands. 

“I couldn’t possibly presume--” 

“You owe me” Arya interjected. “And you can repay me by wearing that under whatever it is you were planning on wearing tonight.”

“Arya--”

“Regardless of what happens,” Arya interrupted. “You need the confidence boost and if he happens to rip your clothes off, well at least you’re prepared.” 

“Great” Sansa scoffed. 

“And, you could put in a good word with Jaime for me” Arya’s smirk widened. 

“I am almost afraid to ask why…” 

“Because he knows Asha Greyjoy and that woman...damn” Arya gave a dramatic sigh. 

“That’s what this is? You’re using me to meet your celebrity crush?” Sansa laughed. 

“She has big dick energy, Sansa, you can’t blame me for admiring her” Arya reasoned, wiping her hands on her coveralls. 

“Then you’ll be happy to know that casting is looking into her for the role of Val” Sansa informed her sister who feigned a faint, dramatically leaning against the counter. 

“Be still my heart. Please, please take me to King’s Landing with you!” 

“You’re so weird” Sansa teased as Arya righted herself.

“I am. And I am also going to get out of your hair so you can clean yourself up and start cooking” Arya replied. 

“Thank you” Sansa followed as Arya clomped back through the house, grabbing the cash Sansa had laid out for groceries on the entry table. 

“Call me tomorrow!” Arya threw over her shoulder, bouncing down the brick steps to the driver’s side of the nearly rust covered truck in the drive. 

“Sure it will make it?” Sansa teased. “It looks like it could fall apart at any second.”

“The rust holds it together!” Arya blew her a kiss as she pulled the door closed and fired up the motor, heading down the road a moment later. Closing the front door, Sansa looked to the bag in her hands, curiosity getting the better of her. Reaching in she shifted the tissue to the side, eyes going wide at the small---no, tiny bits of black lace that were revealed. 

“Oh Gods” Sansa muttered. “I can’t wear this.” 

'Yes you can', her inner voice sounded positively punch drunk at the idea of Jaime Lannister seeing her in...this! She leaned back against the front door as her mind was suddenly filled with lovely visuals of how the evening could go. 

‘Jaime is precious; we wants it, we needs it.’

She was in so much trouble. 

Pushing away from the door she grabbed her phone and turned on the music app. Cranking the volume all the way up, she let the familiar sounds soothe her as she went through her beauty routine. Shower, makeup, hair, and then...Biting her thumbnail she poured the bag's contents onto the bed and sighed in relief as she realized that the bra was more substantial than she’d originally thought. Sheer though it may be, at least it had _some_ fabric. 

Removing the tags, she pulled on the sinfully beautiful panties and bra and when she looked into the mirror, she was surprised at how well the fabric contrasted with her pale skin. It was a bit skimpy for everyday wear but Arya had picked surprisingly well. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she grabbed her black skinny jeans and deep grey blouse, they were casual enough right? Decided that she could go barefoot, it was her house after all, she dressed quickly and then returned to the kitchen to get to work on tonight’s dinner. 

Roasted chicken was on the menu, straight from the book of Stark family secret recipes. She figured that it was healthier than most options, and when paired with potatoes and a salad wouldn’t break Jaime’s diet restrictions too badly. It was really easy to make and the time in the over would give them time to talk--

‘Sure, _talk_.’

Shut up! 

She was so focused on putting the finishing touches on the salad that the chime of her doorbell startled her, pulling a gasp from her chest. 

“Shit” she wiped her hands clean, quickly checking her phone to see that Jaime had sent her several texts, one of which let her know he was on the way. “Alright, you can do this” she gave herself a small pep talk as she walked to the door. Working the lock she opened it wide, smiling her best smile. 

“Hi” Jaime greeted, standing tall on the porch, a paper bag at his feet. Behind him the hired car was pulling back out onto the winding road, surely to return at a later time.

“Hi” she drank in every detail from his faded jeans, to the leather jacket under his arm, and to the untucked navy blue button down that he had rolled up the sleeves on. Even the way his blonde hair fell across his forehead was charming. 

“Hi” he repeated, shifting on his feet. 

“Hi---” in a movement so quick that she nearly missed it, Jaime stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. His lips were on hers a second later, his strong arms all but carrying her inside. 

Her back met the wall beside the open front door and she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her as his tongue parted his lips to delve deeper. He tasted divine, like mint and something sinfully wonderful. Her entire body was on full alert, on fire as she clung to his shoulders as her legs threatened to give way. 

'Precious.'

She didn’t want to dwell on the fact that this man could kiss, really kiss, and instead let her hands wander the flexing muscle in his shoulders, fingers burrowing into his hair. It was heaven--no it was hell, she wanted more, needed more. When one of his hands trailed down her back, barely skating the curve of her ass to settle under her thigh, pulling her closer she whimpered into his mouth, a soft, pleading sound that would have been embarrassing if she wasn’t so lost in sensation.

She had no idea how long they kissed, but when the need for air finally forced them apart, he slowly pulled back, lips lingering on hers for as long as possible until his eyes opened to meet hers. His pupils were blown wide and the emerald of his eyes was positively glowing now, dark as a predator and just as dangerous.

“Hi” he repeated with a breathless laugh, his forehead resting against hers. 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_Barristan sank to his knees beside her unmoving form, his hand trembling as he reached for the hilt of that dagger that had found home in her heart. He did not miss the dragon scale details on the hilt, nor did he miss the fact that this dagger was usually found in the King’s private armory. No, he was fully aware who was responsible for this, and his fury at that burned through his veins like acid._

_“I am so sorry” he whispered, pulling his Jonquil across his thighs, cradling her to his armored chest. “I am so sorry” he kissed her forehead, eyes flooding with tears as her cool skin touched his._

_“Barristan---” Commander Hightower froze in the doorway to the lady in waiting’s chamber, eyes wide at the sight of the bloodied woman in Barristan’s eyes. “What’s happened? A Maester--”_

_“It is too late for a Maester” Barristan choked on a sob, never moving his eyes from her face--her sightless gaze._

_“Who did this?” Hightower asked, stepping into the room._

_“Does it matter?” Barristan’s hand closed around the ornate hilt, pulling it free of his love to toss it at his commander’s feet. “It cannot be undone.”_

_“The King--”_

_“No” Barristan shook his head, raising trembling fingers to brush the hair from Jonquil’s face. “The Princess.”_

_“Her jealousy has at last gotten the better of her” Hightower whispered._

_“And an innocent has once again paid the price for a dragon’s madness” Barristan shifted her in his arms and pushed to his feet. Cradling her as a man would his bride--as he would never be able to, he carried her by his commander and through the halls of the Red Keep._

_He would see to her burial himself, he did not trust that the Princess’ wrath would not extend beyond the mortal coil and so he would care for Jonquil and place her in her final resting place. He would pay penance for this, sweat surely hiding the tears that would fall as he dug a grave atop the hill to the North she had loved so much._

_He had refused the Princess and Jonquil had paid the price with her life. He had dared to love, to place his heart in Jonquil’s delicate hands and now it had ceased beating alongside her own heart._

_He would serve the crown, he would honor his vows, he would exist, but he would never truly live. Not anymore._

“Hi” Sansa whispered back, her lower body shifting against him and he was certain that she could feel his unruly cock, now settled between them and ready for more. He wouldn’t have been able to keep control of his visceral reaction to her regardless of how hard he tried, every bit of him ached for her. 

“I meant to do that last night” Jaime explained, holding her in his embrace. He had spent the entire night regretting not kissing her when they’d dropped her off at her secluded home. Then he spent the entire ride here tonight planning exactly what he was going to do. Psyching himself up really, and praying that she didn't push him away. He shifted on his feet, pressing them tighter together and he felt her body subconsciously arch towards his; his prayers were most certainly answered in that regard. 

Admittedly, in his mind he was a bit smoother, perhaps a little less clumsy but in reality, it was perfect. She was perfect. Even better was that this kiss--their first, had been witnessed by no one else, it belonged to them and them alone. His tongue darted out to taste his lower lip, her flavor still lingering there in a reminder that he had, finally, kissed Sansa Stark. He still held her in his arms, pressed against him, damn near wrapped around him. And it was glorious. 

“I…” she swallowed, nibbling on her lower lip. “I think you should do that again.” 

“I--yeah, yeah me too” he closed the distance to renew their kiss and this time she was ready, parting her lips and welcoming his affections. Her hands in his hair felt fantastic, blunted nails sending shivers throughout his body as they traced across his scalp. 

As his tongue tangled with hers, somewhere in the back of his mind there was a consistent beeping, but he pushed it away when her hands travelled to either side of his jaw, fingers tracing over his skin and leaving fire in their wake. Boldly he slid a hand under her blouse, splaying against her lower back to pull her closer still. Her skin was warm and soft, so unbelievably soft, and as he traced her spine she arched against him and---

There was that damned beeping again. Reluctantly, he pulled back enough to break their kiss. He took a moment to admire the flush of her cheeks and the bright pink of her swollen lips, now curved into a contented smile. 

“What is that beeping?” he asked quietly. 

“The timer for dinner” she gave a breathless laugh. “I didn’t even realize…” 

“Well, we were otherwise occupied,” he smirked. 

“For what it's worth” she paused, licking her lips and he nearly groaned at the sight of her tongue as the tip of it darted out. “I am very glad we did that somewhere private.” 

“Same” he agreed. 

“So” she smiled, running her hands to the back of his neck, toying with his hair. “What’s in the bag” she nodded to the bag that sat alone on the top porch step. In preparation for ‘the kiss’, he had set it beside his feet as he rang the doorbell, now it looked rather lonely sitting there with his discarded leather jacket. 

“Bottle of wine and dessert” he replied. 

“What kind of dessert?” 

“Lemon cakes.” 

“Damn, you’re smooth” she teased. “Send Pod for them, did you?” 

“In my defense, I was busy saving the world,” he countered. 

“In your fancy cape.” 

“Correct me if I am wrong, but I think you liked the cape, you just won’t admit it.” 

“Shut up, Lannister” she laughed, playfully pushing him back. He moved away, but not without stealing another short kiss, helping her to right her blouse as she stood back on her own two feet. “Grab your goodie bag and come on in, make yourself at home” she told him as she moved deeper into the house. 

“I thought I already had” he called after her, smiling wide as her laughter echoed behind her. 

Grabbing the bag and his jacket, Jaime closed and locked the front door before heading into the house proper. He glanced around as he walked, taking in the homey details of her house. On the outside it looked like a wooden cabin, but he was surprised at how modern and bright the interior was. It was hard to explain but he had the distinct impression that he had just--at last, come _home_. 

He felt like a million bucks, his body thrumming with electricity from their kisses and he was already looking forward to the next ones. Granted, he hadn’t fully planned to maul her, just kiss her and show her that he meant to keep her. Hopefully he got that message across. He is fairly certain he did.

He found the kitchen near the back of the house and set his bag on the counter, watching Sansa as she bustled about the island. 

“The bottle opener is just there” Sansa pointed to one of the top drawers. “If you wanted to crack it open.” 

“Sure” Jaime nodded, rounding the kitchen island and getting to work. It struck him then, as he pulled the wine from the bag and worked the corkscrew, that he hadn’t been felt at home--truly at home in a very long time. Even longer than that was the last time he had helped in a kitchen. Usually the Lannister Christmas gatherings were catered and organized to the hilt by his micromanaging Mother, so they never stepped foot in the kitchen. 

But this...this felt like _home_.

“How was work?” Sansa asked as she set two wine glasses on the counter for him. 

“Boring” he chuckled. “Reshoots are always boring. You? Get any writing done on that secret new book of yours?” 

“Not really” she shrugged. “Was a bit distracted today.” 

“Distracted? By what?” he smirked as he poured them each a glass. 

“A girl has to have some secrets” she countered, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel before carrying the large salad bowl to the table. 

“Is this secret tall and blonde? I mean, he could hardly be a secret if the entirety of social media knows, hmm?”

“Turnabout's fair play” she reasoned. 

“That reminds me, I wanted to tell you something” he set the wine bottle down and stepped closer to where she was near the stove, leaning down to whisper in her ear. He heard her breath catch and nearly smirked, “Challenge accepted, the game is on.” 

Sansa swallowed, eyes darting up to his as he resumed his full height, “Perfect. When do we begin?” 

“Oh Stark,” he tsked his tongue. “We’ve already begun.” 

Jaime would readily admit that his second ‘stolen’ photo was even better than the first--which currently had over a million likes, he would like to mention. Granted, it wasn’t exactly stolen, since he is fairly certain that she caught him taking it. This time, rather than have Sansa in the photo by herself, this one had both of them in it...well, sort of. 

Sometime after one of the most delicious meals he’d had in ages, he had kicked off his shoes and truly made himself at home. It was still uncanny, the way he had felt every fiber in his body relax and unwind the moment he was safely ensconced in Sansa’s home. He felt more at home here in a few short minutes than he ever had in his cold, austere King’s Landing condo or the over-the-top elegance of Casterly Rock. Here, and with Sansa, he felt like Jaime the man, not Jaime the celebrity. And Jaime the man was greatly looking forward to a quiet evening sharing languid kisses with the woman who occupied his mind, day and night. 

Dishes done, they carried their wine glasses to the living room, settling onto the couch before the great fireplace. Jaime hadn’t given Sansa a chance to sit too far away from him, pulling her close as she sank to the cushions. He snugged her against his side, one arm around her shoulders and the back of the couch, the other free to grab his wine--or in this case, his phone. 

He saw his opportunity in the picturesque view of their feet--hers bare and his in black socks, on the ottoman at the center of the room with the fire glowing in the background. Their feet, like their bodies, were close and left no room for debate that the people attached to those feet were snuggling. 

Crossing his ankles and tucking one of his feet against hers, he snapped the picture quickly, he was rather proud of his caption, ‘Swept Off Ours #Kingslayer #ThoseNorthernViews #DoItForEdd’, and posted it after tagging Sansa’s feet as ‘@AlayneStone’. 

“Should I be worried?” Sansa asked as she looked pointedly to where he had just set his phone on the ottoman. 

“Nah” he chuckled, shaking his head. 

“You know I’ll get you back for whatever it is,” she whispered, leaning closer. 

“I’m counting on it” he closed the distance between them and claimed her lips, just as he intended to do anytime he got the chance from here on forwards. Now that the dam was broken and he was permitted to kiss Sansa Stark, he had no plans of stopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured, I made you wait long enough for that... ;)


	8. Part 8: Fade In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again...picking up where we left off at dinner...
> 
> Here we are, back together again and ready to enjoy the **light hearted** and **fluffy** fic that the world needs right now! Also, here, take [THIS!](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/622030612097810433/adaptation-au-modern-in-which-sansas-life/)! Another picset from me to you as a 'thank you' for your love and support!
> 
> The usual disclaimer. Not a writer. Just a dude, writing some dudes, created by another dude.

“And that one?” Sansa whispered, watching Jaime’s fingers as they traced across the lines of her palm. 

“That line there?” he paused. “Oh wow, that is impressive. That is the ‘how attracted to Jaime Lannister are you’ line. See how it cuts all the way across the palm” he traced it again to prove his point. 

“You are such a liar” she smirked, curling her fingers around his until they were thoroughly entwined. 

Somewhere around their third glass of wine, when all the lemon cakes had been consumed, they’d stretched out on the couch to share soft kisses that were more romantic than anything she’d experienced before. Snuggled on her overstuffed sofa with their bodies pressed and melded together, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world. 

“I’m not lying. It is right there on your palm, you’re terribly attracted to me, Stark, admit it” he teased, raising their joined hands to kiss her knuckles. 

“Terribly? I don’t know about _terribly_ ,” she countered. 

“Terribly” he repeated. “It isn’t a bad thing. Not at all. It just means that I am succeeding in my plan.” 

“Plan?” she bumped the tip of his nose with hers. “Do I even want to know?” she whispered. 

“I can’t reveal all of my secrets, not just yet” he replied. “A sprinkle of seduction, a bit of romance, you know, that sort of thing.” 

“Oh I see.” 

“And that means as much as I would love to carry you to bed and spend the next month there--maybe two, I won’t,” he continued. “Because I am going to do this right, which will play into my plan later on” the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. 

“There’s that pesky plan again” she teased. 

“It’s a very long term plan.” 

“Long term?” she felt her stomach flutter at the unspoken promise behind his words. He spoke so easily about his ‘long term’ plan and as much as she didn’t object to the idea of spending a month in bed with Jaime Lannister--maybe two, she knew that rushing things could create horrible complications. 

Especially since they were going to be working together for the foreseeable future. 

“Long term” he repeated lazily tracing her fingers as if to memorize their details. Every touch sent electricity through her, sending her heart racing.

“But you know” Sansa said against his lips. “Just because you're concerned about your chastity, Ditto, doesn’t mean we can’t make out a little.”

“Just a little” he smirked, releasing her hand to wrap his arm around her and tunnel into her hair. Sansa loved the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms, being surrounded by him--even if they were fully clothed. She rather liked this idea of taking things slowly, doing them right and learning each other in stages. 

_Precioussss_ \--shut up, she mentally scolded herself, allowing her hand to wander the expanse of Jaime’s back. Gods he was strong, she could feel the play of muscle as he moved and she sent a prayer of thank you into the universe for him and his wonderful shoulders. At least her inner monologue went blessedly silent when their lips met, this time parting easily to enjoy deep, lazy kisses. 

She had no idea how much time had passed, she didn’t care much about time when she was wrapped up in Jaime’s arms, but she was still surprised when the doorbell rang, signalling that Jaime’s hired car had come to return him to the hotel. 

“Fuck” Jaime whispered, breaking their kiss. “I have a really early call tomorrow, otherwise I’d tell him to bugger off” he sighed and Sansa laughed softly, stealing one last kiss before they shifted and rose to their feet. 

“Well, I am sure it goes without saying that you’re welcome anytime” she smoothed his button down, letting her hands linger on the solid wall of his chest.

“Don’t tell me that, Stark. I’ll move in tomorrow and you’ll be sick of me by the holidays” he pulled her close, hugging her tightly for a few seconds. “I’ve had enough of hotels to last me a lifetime.” 

“Well if you show up tomorrow, you can experience a meal with Arya” Sansa paused. “On second thought, no, don’t show up.” 

“Well now I definitely am” Jaime placed a kiss on the top of her head before releasing her with a laugh. 

“Then you’d better prepare yourself” she warned with a playful smile. “She is...unique.”

“Noted” he chuckled. “What should I bring?” 

“Just yourself” Sansa assured him. “I will run to the store in the afternoon. As usual, I will be cooking and Arya brings the booze.” 

“Sounds reasonable, I will leave my cape at work” he said as they walked back to the kitchen so he could gather his things on his way to the door. “I will text you” he slipped on his shoes and leaned closer to kiss her goodbye. 

“All right” Sansa smiled, running her fingers across his cheek, savouring the stubble there. 

“And Stark” he paused with his hand on the door knob. “Check your phone” he winked and slipped out into the darkness. She watched him go, pausing to talk to the driver before he waved and slipped into the back seat. 

She didn’t close the door until the car’s tail lights had faded from sight; it was surreal to think that she had spent the evening in Jaime’s arms--kissing him and snuggling---

 _We wants him! We needs him!_

Yeah, I know, she sighed to herself as she wandered back through the house. She smiled as she picked up their wine glasses and placed them in the sink. She stood there for a few minutes, her fingers absently tracing her kiss-swollen lips. 

“Jaime fucking Lannister” she muttered, laughing softly. The chime of her phone reminded her that he’d told her to check it and she crossed to where it was sitting on the counter. Unlocking it she saw a message from Jaime and several--no, a shitload of notifications from instagram. 

Clicking the text message icon first her mouth curved into a huge smile at the picture he’d sent her--one he’d taken with an outstretched arm while they lay together on the couch. Her head was tucked under his chin, burrowed into him while he looked at the camera smiling that smug smile she'd come to adore. Saving the picture she typed out a reply and sent it before opening instagram. 

“Swept off ours” she leaned against the counter as she read the caption aloud. Now that was a romantic photo, she took a screenshot before scrolling through the comments. Most people had already figured out what was going on between Alayne Stone and Jaime Lannister, but some were genuinely surprised that Jaime was posting photos of a woman. 

‘I thought he was gay’ someone commented and Sansa scoffed, she knew first hand now not gay he was-- _not as first hand as we could have, we needs him_ her Gollum voice purred. As she laughed at her own absurdity, her eyes landed on the black leather jacket over the back of Jaime’s chair at the kitchen table. ‘Jaime’s chair’, what an odd way to think of a chair she has owned for years. Now she would have a hard time imagining she would be able to call it anything else. Especially with Jaime’s leather jacket laying over the back.

In a moment of boldness, she typed a quick comment onto Jaime’s photo and then added the post to her own story before making her way to the bedroom to prepare for bed. 

By the time she crawled into bed Jaime had texted to inform her that he had made it back to his room. She smiled as she wished him a goodnight and couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her lips when he sent her a kissing-face emoji beside a pink heart. 

She replied in kind and flopped back onto the pillows, letting out a deep sigh before hysterical laughter wildly bubbled up in her chest and she let out a short scream, flailing and kicking her legs as she pounded her hands onto the mattress in sheer glee.

The following morning Sansa woke with a smile still pulling at her lips. It was early, but she didn’t mind, she had a lot to do today. A glance at the clock told her that Arya would be expecting a text message so she grabbed her phone and let her Sister know that she was awake. 

After that was taken care of, she ran through her usual social media checks, giggling to herself as she read over the comments on Jaime’s photo from last night. Scrolling she saw that Edd had posted new photos of his cat, aptly named ‘Barristan’ and Sansa gave those a like too. Both she and Jaime had followed Edd on the day he’d posted his updated tattoo and his ‘reaction’ video to that was absolutely adorable.

Of course, Edd was also gaining a sort of ‘celebrity’ status in the _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ fandom because not only was he on the ‘in’ with Jaime and Alayne, but also because of the ‘#DoItForEdd’ hashtag that others had begun using--especially in regards to their fan posts about Jaime, Alayne and their mysterious relationship.

Relationship, Sansa smiled. That’s what it was now, wasn’t it--a relationship? A brief bit of terror clenched in her stomach but it ebbed quickly, a normal reaction she supposed, when one thought about the prospect of being in a relationship with ‘Westeros Sexiest Man Alive’. This was madness, absolute madness. It was terrifying and overwhelming and--Oh Gods the man could kiss. Closing her eyes she allowed herself a brief moment to dwell in the memories of last night; pressed together without a scant centimeter between them, strong arms around her. 

She would have to find a way to usher Arya home early tonight so that she could drag Jaime back to the couch and test the bounds of his chastity. 

As if she’d conjured it, her phone chimed with a message from Jaime. She burst out laughing as soon as she opened it, unable to stop at the sight of Jaime’s chaotic hair sticking up in a hundred directions as he sat in the makeup chair on set. He’d said he had an early call and it must have been _very_ early since he was already in costume and dotted with fake blood.

‘Saving the world?’ she replied, giggling as she saved the photo to her phone. 

‘Absolutely’ he sent back quickly, then added ‘Still in bed?’

‘Yes’ she rolled to her side, snuggling into the pillows. 

‘Miss me?’

‘Terribly’ she echoed his words from last night. 

‘I knew it.’

‘Get to work, I will see you later’ she sent with a winking face. 

‘Yes you will’ he replied with that damned pink heart that had her smiling all over again. 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series Book 1: The Fire Inside** _

_“Please, we cannot” Jonquil shook her head, a few stray tears escaping her from her eyes at the jerky movement. They had shared this conversation so many times, and each time it tore her heart apart. It was becoming harder and hard to refuse him to refuse escape._

_“We can--” Barristan argued, reaching out to take her hand as she turned away. “Jonquil, please.”_

_“She will find out” Jonquil whispered. “I do not know how, but she always knows everything. She will find out and she--”_

_“I will protect you” Barristan promised, guiding her back into his embrace. “I will keep you safe, I vow it.”_

_“You cannot keep me safe, not from her” Jonquil sagged against him. While he had discarded his armor, he still felt as solid as steel against her. She sighed, resting her head over his heart, listening to its steady rhythm, She wanted so badly to believe his words, to believe that he would be able to keep them safe, but she knew in her heart of hearts that there was no escaping the Targaryens and their madness._

_“I have loved you from the first moment you arrived” he whispered against her temple and a smile threatened at her lips. “I will love only you until my last moment.”_

_“Barristan--”_

_“We can be gone by sunrise” he continued. “We could ride away and never look back. Forget the King, forget the throne, all of it and just start over.”_

_“What would we do?” she asked, lifting her head from his chest to look up at him._

_“We could be farmers” he smiled that charming smile of his and she smiled then. "Or even fishermen?"_

_“I cannot imagine the great Ser Barristan Selmy as a farmer” she cupped his cheek. “And I cannot imagine myself away from your side.”_

_“Then we run” he determined. “We ride away and start our lives together.”_

_“And if she finds out--”_

_“We will run far from the dragon’s reach.”_

_“Two days?” Jonquil asked. “Two days and then we go.”_

_“Two days” his smile was positively luminous, and while she still felt fear roiling in her gut, hope was blossoming in her chest--rising up to meet the fear. “Two days until we run. Three until I call you ‘wife’.”_

Jaime was laying on the shattered mock-concrete floor, a few upended tables and chairs scattered around him as Sandor Clegane stood over him. Were this real, Jaime was certain it would be the last thing that he saw before he died, but given they were filming the last pieces of the huge, pivotal fight they were both bored out of their minds. 

Around the set, special effects assistants and set dressers worked quickly to finalize the scene, leaving the actors to their waiting. When the cameras started rolling again, Sandor would have to drag Jaime to his feet--a feat it was more than capable of, and they’d have to exchange a bit of hateful banter before Jaime was thrown through another wall. Good times. 

In truth, Jaime was content to lay here and think about the previous evening he spent with Sansa--and their upcoming dinner tonight. Never in his life had he passed a more pleasurable evening than he had simply existing beside her. Laying on the couch with Sansa in his arms, talking, kissing, teasing it was...

“Buggering hells” Sandor grumbled, finally giving into the heavy weight of his villain’s costume to sit beside Jaime. “It's like watching baseball; thirty seconds of excitement, twenty minutes of fucking waiting.”

“Could be worse” Jaime chuckled.

“Yeah that bastard of a stunt coordinator could be here barking his damned orders. I am sure he’s over by catering and making an assistant cry” Sandor scoffed and Jaime knew he was referring to Roose Bolton, the hard ass that had been working them to the bone the past three months. 

“Has he made it through a meal without making someone cry, yet?” Jaime added.

“No, shit. So tell me” Sandor’s lips curved into a grin. “You in love with her yet?” 

“Funny” Jaime scoffed. 

“She’s beautiful,” Sandor nodded. “Good writer too.” 

“She is” Jaime readily agreed. 

“I am surprised you haven’t demanded that she sit in as the precious little Jonquil” Sandor smirked, already able to tell that Jaime’s brain was mulling the idea over. He shrugged, “At least during filming for the _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ we won’t have to beat each other up all day” Sandor added. 

“They offer you the role yet?” 

Sandor nodded, “In final talks, looks like I’ll be the Hound to your Barristan.” 

“You just wanted to spend another five years working with me” Jaime smirked, blowing the enormous man a sarcastic kiss. “You sure you’re not in love with me?”

“Just wanted to work with that beautiful girlfriend of yours” Sandor clapped Jaime on the leather of his breast plate and Jaime did his best not to wince at the action-- the man’s hands were the size of tennis rackets, for fuck sake. 

“Clegane you fucker” Jaime laughed as the larger man pushed to his feet, the director calling for everyone to take their places. “I look forward to not being thrown around by your massive bear paws.” 

“You’re fun to toss around, Little Lannister,” Sandor laughed. 

“I’m half your fucking size, of course I am” Jaime snorted, watching as Sandor stepped over his chest, both of them slipping into character and getting back to work. 

A few hours and more than a few ibuprofen later, Jaime stepped out of the hottest shower he could tolerate and quickly dried off. He was rushing through dressing and brushing his teeth, anxious to be on the road. He had been counting down the hours until he could return to Sansa’s--a place that felt so much like home, and pull her back into his arms again. 

He’d meant what he said about taking things slowly and doing them right, that was important to him, even if he wanted nothing more than to carry her to the closest horizontal surface. He didn’t want to rush, there was no need for that, and he wanted this to last--to be _it,_ and that required special attention and care. 

He wasn’t some young buck looking for a quick roll in the sheets, and Sansa deserved far better than that regardless. He was a man grown and suddenly in the beginnings of a relationship with an incredible woman that he desperately wanted to keep. He was determined to do this right. 

He remembered back when he was in his early twenties, he had asked his Father--a man who was a veritable asshole on most days, about the secret to a long and happy marriage. Tywin had only chuckled and sipped at his whiskey, replying with a simple word; ‘Patience’. Well, now was the time to put patience into practice and do this right from the start.

Just as he was pulling on his shoes, his phone chimed and he smiled as he picked it up. 

“One new photo tag” he said aloud, then burst into laughter at the photo Sansa had posted. She had obviously enlisted her Sister to help her with this one. The photo was taken in her backyard, the woods visible in the background, and she was facing mostly away with only a little bit of her profile visible. Her hair was in a messy bun and her sunglasses were perched on the top of her head, she was barefoot and in faded jeans, but the icing on the cake was the fact that she was wearing a worn leather jacket that was clearly too big for her. 

A leather jacket that _he_ had been photographed in more than once, one that featured a distinct lion embroidered on the back, and had become his signature of sorts. The caption read; ‘Who wore it better? #Kingslayer #IWokeUpLikeThis #MineNow #DoItForEdd’.

“Nicely played, Stark” he chuckled into the empty room. He took a quick screen shot before liking the photo and typing a reply of his own, which immediately started getting its own attention. A knock at the door let him know that the driver was ready and he sprang to his feet, gathering his wallet and sunglasses quickly before meeting Little Jon in the hall. The bodyguard greeted him with a short nod as they made their way to the private elevator. 

A glance at his phone had him smiling as Sansa had just replied to his comment of ‘You, always you’ with a winky face and ‘See you soon’, which of course sent fans’ brains into a tizzy. 

“She’s almost as good as you are at winding them up” Little Jon chuckled, seeing Jaime’s eyes were glued to his phone. 

“I will have to step up my game then, huh?” he laughed. 

“Likely so” Little Jon nodded as the elevator doors opened and he escorted Jaime through the lobby, passed the awaiting army of paparazzi and frenzy of fans in the parking lot and safely to his hired car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STAY SAFE!
> 
> Join the fun on tumblr! @the-red-wulf! :)


	9. Part 9: Zoom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go. Without further ado...dinner with Arya! 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to TommyGinger, literally the **only** person I know that actually calls them 'jacket potatoes'....
> 
> Not a writer, just a dabbler. Is what it is.

Whatever Jaime had expected upon his arrival at Sansa’s house, it certainly hadn’t been the sinister looking motorcycle that sat in the driveway, a forgotten helmet resting on the seat. Walking closer he met the sound of very loud music echoing from inside--clearly they were already enjoying themselves. 

Chuckling to himself, he did as Sansa’s text had instructed and let himself in the front door. He barely resisted the urge to bellow ‘honey, I’m home’ as he stepped inside. He would save that for later, as he was sure there would be plenty of future visits where he could do just that. 

Kicking off his shoes he scooted them to rest beside a worn pair of leather boots that certainly didn’t belong to Sansa. He would have shrugged out of his jacket then too, but it was being held hostage somewhere inside of the house, so he settled for pushing the sleeves of his button down up to his elbows.

Following the music and the incredible smells coming from the kitchen, he was quiet enough in his approach that he was able to watch unnoticed from the hallway as Sansa danced around the kitchen. On the kitchen island sat the small brunette that Jaime had seen on Sansa’s instagram and deduced that this was Arya. While Sansa wore faded jeans and a soft black sweater, Arya wore black jeans that were torn in a few areas and an ancient Rolling Stones shirt that had seen better days. 

“Sylvia?” Arya called out along with the song. 

“Yes, Mickey?” Sansa replied dramatically into the wooden spoon in her hand. Jaime did his best to bite back his laughter, going so far as to cover his mouth with his hand as he watched. 

“How do you call your lover boy?” Arya sang along, adding in ‘or girl’ quickly with the beat. 

“Come here, lover boy,” Sansa spun, hair flying around her as she swayed back and forth to the classic song. He decided that there was a large chance that the Stark Sisters had seen ‘Dirty Dancing’ a few too many times, but he decided it was wise to keep that opinion to himself. A man did not simply bring up ‘Dirty Dancing’ when outnumbered by the female of the species.

“And if he still doesn’t answer!?” Arya slammed the hand not holding her wine glass onto the counter with a resounding 'thud'. 

“I simply say baby, oh baby, my sweet baby, you're the one” Sansa laughed, her focus on the stove as Jaime stepped closer. Her singing voice wasn’t half-bad, his Sansa was a woman of many talents. He could see the exact moment that Arya noticed him in the corner of her eye, her head whipping towards him in surprise. He raised a finger to his lips, pleading for her silence.

Sansa was still singing, hips swaying, her back to them as they exchanged unspoken words. Moving silently in his socks, Jaime moved to the island and hopped up to sit beside Arya, giving her a nod of thanks as she handed him a glass of red wine. 

“Baaaaaaby---ahhh!!” Sansa screamed as she spun around, arms flailing in surprised to see Jaime seated beside Arya. “Holy shit! How long have you been here?” 

“Hours” Arya answered dryly. 

“Not long,” Jaime laughed, beckoning her closer with a crook of his finger. “Come here ‘lover girl’.” 

“Funny” Sansa said dryly, but still she moved closer, giving him a quick kiss. “Hi.” 

“Hi” he smirked, hooking a finger through the belt loop near her hip to keep her close. “I missed you.”

“Ew, you guys are already in the gross stage?” Arya scoffed. “That was fast.” 

“That’s Arya, she’s a beastie” Sansa tilted her head towards her Sister, but didn’t look away from him. 

“We’ve met already, we’re old friends now” Jaime countered. 

“Oh, I see.” 

“If we’re old friends, does that mean you will tell me where Asha Greyjoy lives?” Arya asked. “I promise not to end up on the five o’clock news.” 

“Arya--” 

“Eleven o’clock, maybe” Arya sighed. “No promises.” 

“Arya, this is Jaime” Sansa continued on. “Be nice.” 

“What do you mean? I’m always nice?” Jaime feigned offense. 

“Not you, her” Sansa pointed at her Sister who was giggling into her wine. 

“Asha Greyjoy though? Really” Jaime turned to Arya who nodded in reply. “I would think you’d aim higher, for Brienne Tarth or--” 

“Ew, no” Arya shook her head. “I don’t do blondes, no offense.” 

“None taken.” 

“Arya is a firm believer that Asha has ‘big dick energy’,” Sansa explained, turning back to the stove. 

“She does!” Arya argued. 

“Do I even want to know?” Jaime asked Sansa in a loud whisper. 

“Don’t ask” Sansa pulled the pots from the stove and moved them near the sink, working efficiently to finish dinner.

“Sansa made her famous arrabiata sauce,” Arya whispered conspiratorially. “She must be trying to impress you.” 

“Oh really?” Jaime smiled. “I will be honest though, it wouldn’t take much more than a baked potato to impress me when it comes to Sansa. I am already thoroughly impressed.” 

“Jacket potato” Arya corrected. 

“A what?” Jaime scrunched his face in confusion. “Jack it?”

“‘Jacket potato’, not ‘baked potato’,” Arya explained. 

“A what? Jackets?”

“He’s from the South, Ya-ya” Sansa cut in. “They call them ‘baked’ down there.” 

“Call them wrong is what they do” Arya mumbled. “And don’t call me that.” 

“Wait,” Jaime laughed softly. “I get it now. Little jackets--their skins, interesting.” 

“Hey Mikey, I think he gets it” Arya quipped. 

“Hush, you” Sansa threw the kitchen towel at her Sister, who caught it deftly. It was fascinating to see the warm and playful dynamic between the two siblings. Sansa had said that they were very close, but he could see now that not only were they siblings, but best friends as well. They were as different as the sun and the moon, but they balanced each other well. 

As Sansa finished up, Arya hopped down from the island to help Sansa plate dinner and he stepped in to help carry everything to the table. He smiled at the sight of his leather jacket over the back of his chair, yes his chair. 

“Nice to see it is still in one piece” he teased, patting the aged leather. 

“I tried to convince her to take a photo in _just_ the jacket, but ‘Miss Priss’ had to wear jeans” Arya snarked as she plopped into her chair at the table. 

“Arya!”

“Now that” Jaime sank into his own chair. “Is something I'd like to see.”

“Oh, I bet you would” Sansa replied, sitting across from him. “I bet you would.” 

Once their meals were finished, they had grabbed the wine and moved to the sitting area in the backyard. When Sansa had first moved into this house, they had picked out the backyard furniture together so that it could become their haven. Since then, Arya and Sansa had enjoyed many evenings relaxing beneath the stars together, so it was fortunate that the weather was mild enough to enjoy it tonight.

Arya had devoured Sansa’s homemade dinner, as always, but now she was thoroughly reveling in the sight of Jaime Fucking Lannister panting after her Sister like an over-eager Golden Retriever. It would be pathetic if it wasn’t so damned amusing; it was beyond crystal clear that Jaime was completely gone for Sansa, and that made her smile. Her Sister deserved every happiness in the world, deserved only the best and she could only hope that Jaime was it.

She had relaxed into her usual chair and Sansa into her’s, and much to Arya’s amusement, Jaime subtly shifted a vacant chair closer to Sansa before he sat down, angling his body towards her. It didn’t take long for his hand to find its way to Sansa’s leg, thumb absently tracing out some unknown design. Arya had to hide her smile in her wine glass before she burst into laughter. What was it that the Sea Witch said? _'Never underestimate the importance of body language?'_ Ha!

How had this happened? And so quickly? Arya pondered. 

Sansa was usually very reserved and aloof when it came to the general public--that wasn’t to say that she couldn’t be polite and charming when the situation called for it, but like Arya, Sansa was a homebody who preferred the company of a few trusted people rather than a large crowd. And yet, here was Sansa sitting happily beside the most famous man in Westeros like it was nothing. Like it was _normal_! And to be honest, it didn’t feel too far from normal for Arya either. 

As their conversation carried on--covering things as inane as Arya's car collection and as important as the correct terminology for oven baked potatoes--it was _jacket_ by the way. There was nothing forced or pretentious, just three people enjoying easy conversation. She certainly hadn’t expected that. 

Arya was currently telling a story from their childhood, the one where she and Sansa were caught trying to take their Father’s old truck for a joyride through the woods--with Arya driving of course. Sansa had heard the story a hundred times and was watching with a bemused expression on her face while Jaime--at first Arya had been offended that he was _bored_ with her story, but his lack of attention was because he was doing his best to capture a candid photograph of Sansa. 

Now she was certain that she was in the buggering Twilight Zone.

Within a few minutes, Arya figured that another photo of Sansa would have made its way to Jaime’s instagram, sending all of the fangirls and boys into a tizzy. This little social media war that they had engaged in was hilarious to watch, especially as it unfolded in front of her. To think she had accused Sansa of lacking a personality on more than one occasion. 

“So Jaime” Arya cut into Jaime’s private moment staring at the screen of his phone. “Sansa tells me that you’re filming with Sandor Clegane right now.” 

“Yeah” Jaime cleared his throat, carefully tucking his phone away in his pocket before Sansa caught him. “He’s spent the better part of the last fortnight throwing me around the set. Probably why everything hurts, including my ego.” 

“They’re in final talks for him to play the Hound” Sansa added. 

“He mentioned that” Jaime chuckled. “It will be nice to be on the same team for a change.” 

“I knew you should have written a Barristan and Hound tent scene” Arya smirked, knowing that would rile her Sister up. 

“Ya-ya,” Sansa sighed.

“Tent---No!” Jaime shook his head. “No, hard pass.” 

“Well” to Arya’s surprise, Sansa’s lips curved into a devious smirk. “You did say that you wanted me to write you a raunchy--” 

“Hard pass” Jaime repeated, leaning forward to refill their glasses on the table.

“Sandor could make you his little spoon” Arya teased. “Huddle for warmth--that’s a good trope, right?” 

“Right!” Sansa lifted her glass, clinking against hers before they drank. 

“I could totally be a writer” Arya declared and Jaime, to his credit, only laughed in exasperation, now having realized they were just trying to get his goat. He’d fit in nicely here, Arya decided. He had more of a sense of humor than the Brothers she already had, she would like him to stick around. Not to mention the fact that Sansa was already smiling brighter than she had in years and Jaime didn’t seem to mind the close, if odd, relationship she shared with her Sister. 

Now if only she could cure him of this ‘baked potato’ bullshit.

Dinner and the following drinks outside were filled with more laughter than Jaime could ever remember experiencing at a meal. They shared stories and anecdotes with never a dull moment in between. By the time they migrated back inside and loaded the dishwasher, his cheeks and stomach ached with mirth. 

Sparing a glance at Arya who was slipping away to the restroom (after loudly announcing she had to pee), Jaime pulled Sansa into his arms, kissing her the way he’d wanted to since they stopped kissing last night. Sansa’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as he trapped her between himself and the kitchen counter, and sighed softly into their kiss. It felt incredible to have her back in his arms, her body pressed to his without a millimeter of air between them. 

“Fuck, I missed you” Jaime muttered, lifting Sansa so that she sat on the edge of the counter, allowing him to kiss her with abandon. Her legs--those damned long legs of hers wrapped around him and held him trapped--not that he minded. He would gladly spend a life sentence trapped within their grasp. 

“I am walking down the hall!” Arya’s voice echoed in the house just as Jaime’s hand slid under Sansa’s sweater to trace the bare flesh over her spine. “I am _around the corner_!” she continued and Sansa broke their kiss with an exasperated sigh. 

“We get it Ya-ya!” she called back as Arya appeared in the kitchen. Jaime moved away from Sansa, leaning against the counter beside her. 

“Thank you for managing to keep your clothes on” Arya smirked, grabbing her jacket from the back of the couch. She pulled it on and then tied her shoulder length hair back into a low ponytail--likely to accommodate her helmet, he guessed. 

“Leaving?” Sansa asked, trying not to sound too eager. 

“Yeah. It’s late and I can tell when I’m a third wheel” Arya chuckled. “Besides, I figure if I let you two have the rest of the evening to yourselves, Blondie here will put in a good word for me with Asha.” 

“Deal” Jaime replied without pause. 

“Perfect” Arya zipped up her jacket, fixing Jaime with a stare. “Jacket potatoes.” 

“Jack-it potatoes, gotcha” Jaime repeated. 

“You’re helpless” Arya laughed, giving them a wave as she made her way to the door. 

“Bye, Ya-ya! Ride safe! Text me!” Sansa called after her, a mumble of a reply heard before the front door opened and slammed shut. In the distance they could hear the start of Arya’s motorcycle, then the sound of the motor faded away until it was just them--at last. 

Jaime moved from where he leaned against the counter, shifting back between her legs. Sansa’s lips curved into a lecherous smile, fingers working their way up his chest to his shoulders. He stole a few kisses, some lingering and soft, others deep and possessive. 

“Hi” Jaime whispered, bumping the tip of her nose with his own. Being this close he could see every freckle that danced across her porcelain skin, could see the flecks of light in her blue eyes. 

“Hi” she stole a quick kiss, a simple peck of the lips. 

“I have to ask you something,” he continued, watching the curiosity blossom in her eyes. “It’s important.” 

“What?” 

“Do you have any ibuprofen?” he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the confused and then amused expression on her face. 

“Yes, of course” she nodded, hopping carefully down from the counter. “Follow me” she beckoned, rounding the island and heading down the hall. Jaime followed, his eyes raking in the details of the portion of the house he hadn’t seen before. 

Like the rest of the house, her bedroom was tastefully decorated, filled with light colors and rich wooden furniture. Even the smell of her perfume lingered on the air around him, lulling him further into a sense of comfort he hadn’t found anywhere else except Sansa’s house.

Sansa flicked the bedroom light on and made her way to the en suite where she rummaged around for a few seconds. Jaime’s attention, however, was drawn to the king-sized bed against the far wall, the sleek grey and white blankets and pillows looking more comfortable than anything had a right to. 

Feeling slightly bold and more than a little exhausted, he crossed to the bed and sank onto the mattress, his aching body relaxed in ecstasy as the mattress flexed to comfort him. He allowed his body to flop back across the comforter, the rich scent of Sansa surrounding him as it wafted from the blankets. 

Heaven, _this_ was heaven. 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_“You sent for me, My Lady?” the maid curtsied as she entered the room._

_“I did, yes. Thank you for coming so quickly” Jonquil crossed to her writing desk in the corner, picking up the sealed letter with a careful hand. She had sealed it with wax, but did not use her sigil, merely left it to bubble and cool, keeping the author concealed. “I have something deeply important to ask of you, Ana” she stood before the maid._

_“My Lady?”_

_“I want you to keep this letter safe, hide it if you must” Jonquil placed it into Ana’s awaiting hand, curling the younger woman's fingers around the paper. “I know that I can trust you with this, we have known each other so very long.”_

_“Are you well, My Lady?” Ana’s voice was laced with concern. "Is something amiss?"_

_“I am well, Ana. But if something were to happen to me before sennight’s end, I need you to deliver this letter to Ser Barristan Selmy--and only to him” Jonquil instructed. “If something happens to him as well, then burn the letter. Do not let it fall into any hands but his own, is that understood?”_

_“Yes, My Lady” Ana bowed her head, tucking the letter into a hidden pocket in her skirt. “I promise to keep it safe.”_

_“Thank you, Ana” Jonquil nodded vaguely, crossing back to the window. Ana watched her Lady for several moments before she returned to work, the weight of the secret letter heavy in her pocket._

_Ana had known Lady Jonquil for many years, having moved to the capitol with her to tend her as her Lady’s maid. She had gotten to know her well along the way, finding her mistress to be the kindest of souls--if sad. The only time Jonquil ever smiled was when Ser Barristan Selmy was near, though she likely did not realize it herself._

_If only the Princess Daenerys was a kinder soul, a gentler soul, Ana thought as she hurried through the halls. Then perhaps Lady Jonquil’s smiles would not have to be so carefully concealed._

“Will advil---” Sansa’s voice trailed off as she took in the sight of Jaime Lannister completely passed out on the bed. _Her bed_. One of his feet was still on the floor, his head burrowed between the two pillows at the head of the bed, making his face barely visible. Light snores could be heard in the quiet of the room and she felt her heart ache and swell at the sight.

The poor man, she set the capsules on the night table beside the bed, it was hard work getting thrown around by Sandor Clegane all day. She couldn’t imagine how exhausted he was after today, or how much he ached--enough to ask for ibuprofen, that’s for sure. The life of an actor was certainly not all glitz and glamour as they would have you believe. 

Careful not to disturb him, she left the room and set about locking up the house for the night. The dishes and leftovers were already sorted, but she made sure the doors were locked and the lights were off. It was her usual nightly routine, but this time it was done with the knowledge that another person was safely locked in with her. 

After pouring him a glass of water, she was just shutting off the kitchen light when headlights passed across the front windows, letting her know that the driver had returned for Jaime. Rushing to the front door, she opened it just as the driver was about to ring the bell. 

“Hi” she whispered. 

“Ma’am?” 

“He is asleep--like, utterly passed out. Is there any way you can come back in the morning to pick him up?” she asked and the man’s brows furrowed for a brief moment before he pulled his phone from the pocket of his slacks. She was glad that he decided to trust her word on this, rather than have to parade him to the bedroom for proof--that would be awkward. 

_We has him where we wants him_ , Shut up!

“According to the schedule from his P.A., Jaime isn’t due on set until 11, I can be here at 9” he replied, checking his calendar. “That should give him time to get ready.”

“That is perfect, he will be ready to go by then” Sansa promised and the man nodded. “Thank you, drive safe and--” she paused. “If you’re here a bit early, I will make you some breakfast.” 

“That sounds good, ma’am” he gave a nod and a smile. 

“Please, call me Sansa” she asked. 

“Alright, I’m Cley” he replied, giving another nod before returning to the estate car in the driveway. As he pulled away, Sansa closed and locked the front door, double-checking all the lights as she wandered back to the bedroom. 

Upon her return she moved to Jaime’s side, setting the glass of water beside the capsules before rubbing his shoulder gently, “Ditto.” 

“Hmm?” he mumbled, though he didn’t open his eyes. 

“Come on, we’ve got to get your clothes off” she explained. 

“I like your style, Stark” he mumbled, shifting on the covers. 

“Funny” Sansa quipped, helping him to sit up, his head was barely able to hold itself up as she unbuttoned his shirt. She, of course, allowed herself to admire the bare breadth of his chest and abdomen as she worked--she even did her best to shove down the Gollum voice in the back of her head, muffling it until it was barely a whisper. 

_Precioussssss_ \--okay, an incessant whisper.

Pulling away his button down, she was able to shimmy him out of his slacks before he collapsed against the bed again. She was sure to work with a clinical hand--anything lesser than that would have her shaking him awake and demanding that he rid himself of the last of his clothing. 

“This okay?” Jaime’s voice was slightly slurred, his eyes still shut as he lingered right on the edge of slumber.

“Yes” Sansa smiled though she knew he couldn’t see it. “Go to sleep, Ditto” she whispered, tucking him into the blankets.

“Mmkay.” She watched as he snuggled into the pillow with a sigh and slipped back into an exhausted slumber. 

Feeling the weight of his phone in his slacks, she pulled it free and plugged it into her charger beside the bed before placing it screen-down on the night table. She wasn’t about to risk invading his privacy by looking at the screen. She quickly laid his clothing across the chair in the corner of the room, turning back to admire the barely clothed man in her bed. 

“Well” she muttered, placing her hands on her hips. “Isn’t that a sight.” Granted she had hoped that the first time she had Jaime in her bed he would be a bit more...well, conscious, but she could see how exhausted he was and the fact that he had fallen asleep so quickly made her smile. That meant he was comfortable here, right? 

_We wants him, we needs him!_ the voice in her head screamed and she pushed it away. Now is _not_ the time. 

As quietly as possible, she ducked into the master bathroom to strip away her makeup and wash her face. Changing into her pajamas she felt only a slight bubble of nerves upon slipping into bed beside him. Rolling to face him, she was grateful that the moonlight coming through the open blinds was enough to illuminate the room and his profile. 

He looked so at peace, so boyish as he slept and she was honored to be amongst the few who have seen him in such a vulnerable position. This was Jaime Lannister, the real Jaime Lannister, the man that she knew she was dangerously close to falling in love with. 

Jaime. Fucking. Lannister. She never could have prepared herself for this. For him. 

_We needs it---_ Shut up, she chastised herself, letting her eyes drift shut. 

Sansa woke first, her habit of rising early never breaking, not even with Westeros’ most handsome man asleep beside her. Sometime in the night Jaime’s hand had found hers, their fingers twining together as if to assure himself that she was still there. She couldn’t be certain if he had done so in his sleep, or if he had woken up to find her asleep beside him. The idea of him wanted to be connected to her, even in slumber, made her stomach feel as if it were filled with butterflies. 

Blinking the sleep from her face, she smiled across the pillows at him, admiring the stubble on his cheeks and the way his hair fell across his forehead while he slept. A glance at the time on her phone told her she had plenty of time to cook breakfast before Cley would be back to collect Jaime. 

With as much stealth as possible, Sansa opened the camera on her phone and took a picture of their hands atop the sheets--for her own collection of course, she never wanted to forget this moment, their first morning together. 

Satisfied that the photo was perfect, she carefully slipped from the bed, pulling the blankets back into place before padding to the bathroom to begin her day. She dragged her hair into a messy bun and she stayed in her baggy sleep shirt and shorts, not wanting to bother with dressing after being pulled from some of the best sleep she’d had in ages. 

Once she was safely in the kitchen, she unlocked her phone to check her notifications. She replied to Arya's texts before moving onto social media, smiling as she saw the ‘1 New Photo Tag’ notification for Instagram. Quickly tapping the app icon, she waited for the photo to load and when it did, she sagged against the kitchen counter. 

“Oh.” 

The caption read ‘These Northern views change everything #BakednotJacket #Kingslayer #DoItForEdd’, and the photo was one that Jaime had apparently taken when they were out back. It was a candid of her profile, hair laying over her shoulder as she smiled at Arya’s storytelling skills. It was the first photo he’d posted in this little war of theirs that showed her face, there was no denying now that it was ‘Alayne Stone’ in this photograph. 

The weight of it settled on her shoulders, but it didn’t feel like a burden, just a heavy reminder than this was _real_. Jaime was, for lacking better terms, hers. And now the entire world knew it beyond a doubt, it was a surreal feeling to be sure. 

Deciding she would read the comments later, she set aside her phone to focus on the task at hand; breakfast. She worked quickly and by the time Jaime woke, she was nearly done cooking. She was just finishing up the eggs when strong arms banded around her waist, holding her tightly as a chin came to rest on her shoulder. 

“I passed out on you” Jaime mumbled, his voice still thick and raspy from sleep. 

“You did” she leaned against his strength. “But you are _so_ adorable when you sleep, Ditto.” 

“That’s good to know, I can’t remember the last time I slept so well. That mattress is magic” he chuckled, kissing the side of her neck. “Breakfast smells amazing, it will go nicely with the ibuprofen you left me, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. The benefits of falling asleep here” Sansa shifted the pan off of the burner and turned in his arms. “I make fantastic breakfasts.” 

“Perfect” Jaime leaned down to kiss her, keeping it short and sweet. “My sinister plan is working.” 

“Sinister or long term?” 

“Both” he countered. 

“Hungry?” 

“Starved.” 

“I meant for food” Sansa smirked, running her hands over his bare chest. And, oh what a glorious chest it was. Alright, so she was indulging herself a little, so what? Jaime was a nicely built man, well put together and, okay sure, playing the role of a superhero had him looking downright edible. She was only human 

“Food, sure” Jaime scoffed, sliding his hands under her sleep shirt. She didn’t miss the way his hands smoothed over the bare expanse of her back, tracing her spine and ribs without the hindrance of a bra. The touch, as mild as it was, sent shivers through her and she did her best to hold herself together. 

“Food” Sansa repeated, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless to him as she did to herself. It had been a very long time since she had shared a morning--let alone a bed with someone, but never had it been this _effortless_. Then again, everything concerning her relationship with Jaime had been effortless.

“Alright, just food--for now” he relented. “Gods, I am sure I have nothing short of a hundred messages from Pod.”

“Your phone is on the charger next to the bed. Cley will be here around 9ish so that you can get to set on time, and I promised that he could have breakfast too.” 

“You’re on a first-name basis with my driver and you’re bribing him with breakfast? You could have had me tied to the bed, intent on torturing me all night and he left me here” Jaime shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Well, ideally--you know, to start” Sansa smirked. “The next time you’re this naked in my bed, you’ll be awake for it--torture or otherwise” she glanced at his lean frame, still clad only in his boxer briefs.

“Deal,” Jaime agreed, leaning close to kiss her forehead. His lips lingered there for a few seconds, the warmth of his exhale skating across her skin.

“Good” Sansa whispered. “Now pour us come coffee, Ditto, because breakfast is served.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baked or jacket? What do YOU call them? Inquiring minds want to know! XD
> 
> Don't forget to join the fun on tumblr! Stay safe out there!


	10. Part 10: P.O.V Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love you gave to the last chapter and its banter. Y'all gave me life, helping establish #potatogate 2020, I love it! My gut says that the tags for this story, at the end of it, are going to be hilarious.
> 
> A bit more in the North before we make a bit of a time jump to King's Landing. Bear with me, it will be worth it. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, supporting, sharing love. I am deeply grateful for the support and readership, more than I could ever say. Stay safe & sane out there! #DoitforEdd

Once Jaime was on his way to work, both him and Cley with full stomachs and a box of homemade cookies for later, Sansa indulged herself in a long, hot shower before pulling on jeans and a fuzzy sweater that would be comfortable enough to write in all afternoon. 

After the revelation that was Jaime’s candid photo of her that he had shared with the world, she had given up trying to keep up with her social media notifications. She replied to Arya’s text about how the night went after she’d left--refusing to divulge any unnecessary details, and tucked into working on her next novel.

She wasn’t quite behind on getting her new chapters to Shae, but she wasn’t exactly ahead either. She had quite a bit to hammer out before Shae would be pleased with her progress. Of course, Shae wasn’t too hard to please when it came to _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ and its expanded universe. This new novel was a companion piece to the originals, this time telling the stories of The Hound and his complicated past and rise to Knighthood. It was a shift in gears from the Barristan Selmy stories, darker and with a fair amount of violence, but the insight it gave into the scarred man would really enhance the universe. Or so she had promised Shae.

Taking a break from writing after working through several chapters, Sansa stood and stretched on her way to the kitchen for a snack. Of course, the moment her mouth was full her cell phone rang and she quickly chewed and swallowed before answering. 

“Stannis, hello” she cleared her throat to rid it of any food bits. “Er, Hi.” 

“Hope I am not interrupting--” 

“Not at all, I was rudely shoving food into my face” she laughed. “How are things in King’s Landing?” 

“They’re going well, the oppressive heat has finally relented,” Stannis replied, the shuffling of papers sounding in the background. “The studio has your apartment all sorted and ready for your use and I think you’re really going to like where I am at on the script.”

“That’s great,” Sansa agreed, grabbing a bottle of water on her way back to her desk. “I should be heading down there in a few sennights, then we can really start to hammer things out. You will be sick of me in no time.” 

“Impossible as that sounds, it seems like a reasonable plan” Stannis paused for several seconds. “I am sure that Jaime Lannister will be pleased that you’re staying in town as well,” he added and Sansa laughed. She’d had a feeling this conversation was coming and even though she didn’t dread it, she wasn’t sure how Stannis was going to take...well, everything. 

“That is very likely true,” she agreed, sinking into her swivel chair. “But, Stannis, there is nothing to worry about in terms of this...relationship affecting the films. I give you my word on that, professionalism will be maintained at all times.My publisher won't be pleased if the love surrounding the series dies on the big screen.” 

“I sincerely hope that is true,” he replied. “These films have the potential to be the earmark of several careers and I would hate for them to fall short.” 

“I understand,” Sansa replied. “And trust me, it is something I think about frequently.” 

“If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me” Stannis assured her. “I am sure at the end of all of this, we will be sick of each other as you've said, but I am always here to listen.” 

“Thank you Stannis, that is very kind of you” she felt the unease in her stomach relax, grateful that he was being understanding regarding this. 

“Besides” his chuckle was low and throaty. “The publicity for _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ is already off the charts. You can’t write PR as good as this little social media tête-à-tête you two have created.” 

“You can thank Jaime for that,” Sansa said. 

“I will,” Stannis replied with more shuffling of papers. “Now then, have you a moment to go over a few details with me?” 

“Of course” she pulled out her notebook and pen. 

Nearly two hours and several notebook pages later, Sansa set her pen aside as they ended their call. They had covered a lot of ground in terms of building the tone and universe for the first film. Stannis has an inherent understanding of _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ for which she was eternally grateful. He seemed to simply _get_ what she was going for and was able to translate that into the screenplay. 

Setting her screenplay notes aside, she clicked quickly through several emails on the screen, a smile crossed her lips as her phone dinged with a new text notification. 

‘I enjoyed waking up in your bed’ Sansa read the message from Jaime, giggling to herself as the three dots indicated he was typing again. ‘But next time, I’d rather wake up with you in said bed beside me.’ 

‘I could be tempted’ she sent the reply before she could second-guess herself, hitting send at the same moment that her phone lit up with another call. 

“Sansa!” Shae greeted the moment the phone was pressed to her ear. "If it isn't my favorite author!"

“Shae, how are you doing?”

“I am calling you from beneath a mountain of fan mail!” Shae laughed wildly. "This is insane!"

“What?” Sansa sat up straighter in surprise.

“The good news is you’ve broken a record for fan mail within the company” Shae explained, a grunt and slam sounding in the background. “The bad news is...most of it is hate mail.” 

“Hate mail?” Sansa frowned as her phone dinged in her ear. Putting it on speaker phone she opened the photo message from Shae that showed sacks and sacks of envelopes that filled Shae’s conference room. “Oh my Gods” she whispered. 

“Women hate you!” Shae laughed. "Hells, even teenage girls hate you!" she snorted in a very unladylike manner.

“How is that funny?” 

“Because! They hate you for the simple reason that you're getting naked with Jaime Lannister!” Shae elaborated. 

“I’m not--” 

“Don’t break my heart and tell me you’re not getting any of that sweet Lannister loving” Shae interrupted. “If I have to deal with this shit storm of mail, then you’d better be sore and limping from all the fantastic sex.” 

“Oh my Gods” Sansa covered her face with a hand. “We are not having this conversation.” 

"Maybe next time we talk, I will be beneath a pile of fan mail and you will be beneath--" 

"Shae!"

“Ugh, fine...so, on a business note, your sales are also through the roof” Shae’s voice took on a more serious tone. “We’re seeing huge surges in the trilogy set and _‘The Fire Inside’_. The movie buzz is really gaining momentum.” 

“That’s good, right?” 

“Damned good,” Shae promised. “Your royalties are going to be disgusting.” 

“Oh, good.” 

"And so will my bonus!"

"Lovely."

“Now, tell me,” Shae asked. “How did it go with Stannis today?” 

“Very well, we actually just hung up a bit ago” Sansa launched into a brief explanation of what they had covered, all of which Shae seemed pleased with. 

“The moment you’re in King’s Landing, we have to grab lunch or dinner or whatever” Shae paused to issue a few directions and instructions to her minions. “We have to catch up on all the delicious details.” 

“By ‘delicious details’ do you mean--” 

“Jaime Lannister naked, yes” Shae clarified. 

“Not a chance” Sansa smirked, hanging up as Shae’s laughter filled the line. Switching screens, she opened her text messages to see Jaime had replied while she was talking to Shae. 

‘What does it take to tempt Sansa Stark, I wonder’ Jaime wrote with the thinking emoji at the end. 

‘You’re a smart man, Ditto, I am sure you can figure it out’ she wrote back with a smile. 

Leaning back in her chair, she opened her Instagram app and scrolled through the mountains of notifications and comments on Jaime’s newest photo, most of which were positive. Deciding to make her move, she chose the picture--one she had snuck this morning in the kitchen, and typed out the caption with a mischievous giggle. She knew that Jaime would greatly enjoy this, even if it would have the fan’s losing their collective shit once again. Of course, it would be a while until he saw it--between set and interviews clogging his schedule all day, but still...it will be totally worth it. 

Setting her phone aside she refocused on The Hound and the work that needed to be done in order to keep Shae off of her back. As often happened, Sansa lost herself to the world of _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ , pausing her work for only necessary breaks and before she knew it, the late afternoon sunshine was peeking through the trees. 

Making her way to the kitchen she rinsed her cup and set it aside before checking her phone. Jaime had sent her a few texts and a selfie that showed how exhaustive his day had been. She started to reply but was struck with yet another brilliant idea. If she was going to make this work, she had to move quickly. Sprinting through the house she all but slid into her bathroom, determined to freshen herself up before making the drive. She washed her face and added a little bit of light makeup--enhancing rather than concealing, of course, and brushed her hair until it shined. 

_We misses him. We needs him_ she pushed the voice to the back of her mind, knowing full well how absurd it was to miss him after only a few hours. She had never experienced anything like this before; the simultaneous ease of everything combined with a terrifyingly quick-forming attachment to Jaime. 

Well, she mentally decided, smoothing her hands over her sweater as she examined her reflection, there was nothing wrong with wanting to see him and spend time with him. Besides, she reasoned, soon they would be in King’s Landing and fully embroiled in _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ films, who knows how much spare time they would have when that started. 

No, she nodded, switching off the light. She was damn well going to make the most of being in the North with Jaime. Fucking. Lannister.

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_Ana watched the stoic form Ser Barristan for several moments before she summoned the courage to approach. She had spent the morning crying, devastated at the loss of her Ladyship but when at last her tears had run dry, she knew what she had to do. She had a promise to fulfill, and she meant to keep her word._

_Moving quietly, as a maid always did, she stepped to his side and took in the imposing golden form of his armor and cloak. He was well regarded in court as a handsome man of honor, one that the Princess made no secret of favouring. But the reality of him--up close and in person, was far more intimidating. She had not had much opportunity to speak with him before today, having only observed his walks with Jonquil from afar, so she steeled herself with several deep breaths before she began._

_“Ser Barristan” Ana said meekly, her words surprising the Kingsguard who turned to her with wide eyes. “I am sorry to bother you, Ser” her eyes darted to the fresh grave that sat before them. “But I have something for you, from Lady Jonquil.”_

_“Me?” his eyes were bright and glossy, clearly filled with emotion. Ana nodded, pulling the folded and sealed paper from her gown’s hidden pocket._

_“She bade me give this to you should something happen” Ana swallowed another wave of emotion, tears gathering in her eyes. “Made me promise to.”_

_“I see” Barristan’s frown grew weary, his gloved and armored fingers trembling slightly as he took the papers from her. “Thank you for your loyalty to her...”_

_“Ana, Ser Barristan.”_

_“Ana” he nodded. “Thank you Ana, I know Jonquil valued your help and companionship.”_

_“Thank you, Ser” she said, this time tears escaping to flow down her cheeks anew. Now free of her task, she wiped her eyes with the handkerchief that Jonquil had gifted her on her last name day, mindful of its delicate embroidery. "The world is the lesser now without her in it."_

_“What will you do now, Ana?” Barristan surprised her with his inquiry._

_“I know not, Ser” she replied honestly. “The Princess…” her words trailed off, she did not need to voice such treasonous thoughts aloud, not this close to the palace._

_“If you wish it” Barristan began. “I can arrange for you to travel West, back towards home” he suggestion, her heart racing with barely concealed hope._

_“Yes, I would---” she swallowed. “I would be most grateful to go home.”_

_“I will arrange it, be ready to leave within the sennight,” Barristan nodded, his gaze swinging back to the grave. He had buried Jonquil himself, placing her upon the top of her favorite hill before covering the disturbed earth with the vibrant yellow of jonquil blooms._

_Ana stared at the grave for several minutes, no more words needing to be spoken between them as they remembered the woman who had been stolen away from them._

“So Jaime, you know we have to ask--because we’re all simply dying to know” Missandei Naath, a reporter for the KL Entertainer, smiled at him. “What is going on with you and author Alayne Stone?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean” he laughed, leaning back in the rather comfortable director’s chair that had been setup across from hers. Beside them was a floor to ceiling poster promoting the superhero film that he was currently wrapping up, the film he was supposed to be creating buzz about--per Melisandre’s orders. 

“Haven’t the slightest” Missandei laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve been notoriously closed lipped about any past relationships and it's been quite a while since you’ve been spotted with a lady friend at all.” 

“Well, Missandei” he decided to tackle this head-on, since he wasn’t going to be able to escape press junkets and interviews without talking about Alayne at all. “In the past I haven’t been of the mind to share that private bit with the world. But I realized early on with Alayne that I needed to begin as I intended to move forward.” 

“And how’s that?” 

“With the endgame in mind” he explained. “Not only is Alayne a singular woman, but she is an incredible person. Needless to say, I intend to impose myself on her for as long as she’ll tolerate me.” 

“As if ‘tolerate’ is even a word when it comes to ‘Westeros’ Sexiest Man Alive’,” Missandei said with a genuine smile. 

Jaime had interviewed with her multiple times throughout his career and he knew, just as she did, that this was all a game of information. While she was one of the more honest reporters in the entertainment world, he was also certain that she wanted to know any sordid detail that she could wheedle out of him. Because of this, he had to be careful with his wording, lest he be misquoted or dragged through some imaginary scandal. 

It was, in his opinion, the most ridiculous part of being considered ‘famous’. Why would the world need or want to know seedy details was beyond him. Still, he had to play this game to stay ‘relevant’ in Hollywood. Usually social media was his way of getting ahead of this, of controlling the flow of information from his life, but when there was a new movie to promote, he had to play the interview tango. Fortunately Missandei was his sixth and final interview of the evening, an evening he reluctantly spent away from Sansa to fulfill his contractual obligations. 

“Regardless” Jaime continued. “While the full details of our relationship will remain private, I believe we plan to continue as we have been.” 

“Continue by teasing your fans with vague pictures and captions?” 

“Absolutely” Jaime laughed. “What else would you expect from me?” 

“Tell me one thing” she prompted. 

“Depends on what that ‘one thing’ is" he countered.

“What does ‘#DoItForEdd’ mean?” 

“Edd knows who he is,” Jaime smirked. “And we’re doing it for you, Edd” he said directly into the camera. 

“You’re very determined not to give me any juicy gossip today, aren’t you?” Missandei sighed dramatically. 

“Again, what else would you expect from me?”

By the time Jaime made it back to his hotel room, he was beyond exhausted. In spite of how incredible the day had begun--surrounded by lush pillows and the scent of Sansa, working all day and dealing with the press had wiped out the last of his energy for today. 

He had messaged Sansa on his way back to the hotel, attempting to satisfy his need to talk to her through text since he wasn’t able to see her tonight thanks to interviews running late and a very early call kept him trapped in the hotel for the night. He did his best to push the disappointment aside when Sansa’s usually quick replies didn't come. Perhaps she was lost in her writing, he reasoned to himself, hard at work spinning another delicious web of creativity that he couldn’t wait to read.

Upon reaching the penthouse, he had immediately dragged himself into the shower, with a pitstop for ibuprofen, and now that he didn’t feel dingy, he picked up his phone from the bed and scrolled through the day’s notifications. 

‘1 New Photo Tag’ he smiled wide and opened the app. 

“I guess he’s all right,” he read the caption aloud, laughing at the hashtags ‘#Kingslayer’, ‘#DoitForEdd’, ‘#LovethesmellofLannisterintheMorning’. The photo had been taken at some point this morning, featuring a back view of him standing in the kitchen staring out the window above the sink. It was after he had dressed, thankfully, but it was obvious his shirt was unbuttoned and his hair was askew. To the outside observer it would look as if he had spent the night in a much more...sinful way than just sleeping beside each other, and he was….well, he was okay with that. 

Scrolling through the comments he noticed a reply from ‘YaYaBinks’ that read ‘As if. He’s a real PITA’ with an eye-roll emoji and knew immediately that this was Arya’s account. He clicked through and followed her, giving a cursory glance at the cars, motorcycles and photos with Sansa she had posted. It was nice to see the tight knit relationship they had, he had never been that close with his Sister and she was his twin. But Arya and Sansa had a deep understanding of each other that went far beyond embracing their differences. He would be inclined to believe that even if they weren’t Sisters, they would still be best friends on choice alone. 

Before he could save any of the photos--what, don’t judge, a knock sounded at the door. He assumed that it was Little Jon and didn’t bother pulling on a shirt over his baggy pajama bottoms before crossing to the door. He opened it wide, only to freeze at the sight that greeted him. 

“Knock-knock, Ditto” Sansa's lovely face smiled back at him, a large bag in one hand and a foil tray in the other. She wore faded jeans and a soft, plush looking sweater, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders. She looked incredible. She looked like an angel. 

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise” he stepped aside and allowed her in, sharing a brief nod with Little Jon before he closed the door. Of course his bodyguard had known to allow Sansa up to the room, that man deserves a raise. 

“I know that you had a long day at the office, honey” she smirked, setting her bounty onto the large dining table where they had shared their first meal. “So I thought you could use a pick-me-up.” 

“Whatever it is, it smells delicious” he replied. 

“Take away from the Hornwood Diner” she smiled. “There might even be dessert in there if you play your cards right, Ditto.” 

“And I thought I was the one who was supposed to be tempting you” he moved closer and pulled her into his arms. 

“Oh, don’t worry, you are” she looked pointedly to his bare chest and then back to his eyes, he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I see” he leaned in to steal a kiss. He had intended it to be a brief one, but when Sansa’s arms wound around his neck and shoulders, all signs of good intentions flew out the window. In fact, if you listened closely you could even hear the echoing ‘splat’ as they landed on the pavement beneath the balcony. RIP Good Intentions, we knew you well. 

With a surprisingly deft movement--one that impressed even himself, Jaime lifted Sansa into his arms and set her on the table’s surface. The moment Sansa realized that her legs were free, they wrapped around him as well, holding him captive. As his hands found their way beneath her sweater to travel across her bare back, hers began their descent from his shoulders to his chest and back. 

Suddenly he was very grateful that he hadn’t bothered to pull on a shirt after his shower. 

“Jaime” Sansa whimpered when his lips trailed a path from her lips to the hollow of her throat before following the cut of her jaw. 

“Gods you’re beautiful” he muttered in awe as her head lolled to the side, a soft sigh escaping her as he nuzzled closer. "I can't seem to keep my hands off of you." 

“What about...your...plan?” Sansa sounded more than a little breathless which made him feel more than a little smug. Just as everything else about Sansa Stark was genuine, so were her breathy sighs and soft whimpers. Even the flush of her cheeks and neck were deliciously innocent.

“Well,” he kissed just below her ear, letting the silky flesh of her lobe rest against the tip of his nose. “You know what they say…”

“Don’t eat cheese before noon?” 

“No” he laughed softly and kissed her ear lobe. 

“A penny saved is a penny earned?” 

“No” he shifted back, not missing the exaggerated pout on her lips in the split second before he hauled her over his shoulder. 

“Jaime!” her hands freely travelled his back as he carried her through the penthouse like a sack of potatoes. It didn't seem to deter her mind, however. “A stitch in time saves nine?” 

“What--no” he stepped through the bedroom doorway in the same instant Sansa’s hand found his ass through his pajama pants, squeezing the right cheek tightly. This woman---Gods this woman was amazing, driving him absolutely wild. How he had it made it this far without her in his life, he hadn’t a clue.

“Mmm, lovely superhero buns--ah!” Jaime dropped her to the bed and followed her down to the counterpane. As if they had done this a hundred times before, Jaime settled into the cradle of her body, those long legs of hers banded around him. 

“You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar?” she said softly, lips ghosting against his. He could feel her fingers idly toying with his hair, feel the rapid beat of her heart where their bodies were pressed together and he decided that he never wanted to leave this moment. He would be perfectly content to spend the rest of his days right here. Meeting her eyes, he found her looking at him expectantly, silently prompting him to reveal his plan for his _plans_.

“The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry” he nibbled her lower lip gently.

“Jaime” Sansa whimpered. “You’re going to choose now to quote Robert Burns to me?” 

“Maybe I am” he teased, peppering kisses across her lips and face. “Or maybe, I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to join the fun on tumblr - https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


	11. Part 11: Dissolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well....I bet y'all thought I forgot about you, huh? Well I didn't! So, ha! 
> 
> I know it has been a while since I updated, and while this chapter isn't as long as the previous ones, it is a transitional chapter so I wanted to get it out there for you all to enjoy. Of course, y'all have been waiting quite some time for our leads to pick up where we left them *wink wink, nudge nudge* Know what I mean! 
> 
> I hope that you are all staying safe and keeping sane, the world is a mess and hopefully this makes you smile. :)  
> Thank you for your love, support and readership, I am more grateful than I can say. <3 Enjoy! (it's about time we earn that "E" rating, dontchathink?)

“There’s one here” Sansa sighed as Jaime trailed feather light kisses down her side. “And here” the warmth of his breath sent a shiver through her. Jaime was quite determined to map each of her freckles and moles, for as quickly as he had carried her to bed, the moment they’d collapsed across the mattress he suddenly decided to take his time. Her sweater had been discarded and lay somewhere on the floor beside the bed, and though her black bra wasn’t the sexiest in her collection, at least it matched her panties. 

So she had that going for her...

“Jaime” she pleaded, tangling her hands into his golden hair. 

“And here” he kissed just below her belly button, his fingers idly working to unbutton her jeans.

“Is this your plan?” she asked softly. “To torture me to death?” 

“Not to death” she felt his smirk against her newly bared flesh above her panties. “Just enough…” 

“Enough?” 

“Mmhmm” he hummed and she tilted her hips as her jeans went the way of her sweater. 

"I have to build the tension--the anticipation."

"You don't" she protested as he kissed along the inside of her ankle. "You really don't."

“My, my, aren’t these lovely” Jaime’s hands traced her legs as he moved back to her side. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, nuzzling against the hollow of her throat. 

“Jaime…” 

“Hmm?” 

“You’re killing me.”

“Am I?” he asked lazily, his hand finally--blessedly pushing the lace of her bra aside to cup her breast. The warmth of his palm seeped into her as his thumb traced her nipple, working it into a jeweled peak. 

“Y-yes” she whimpered. 

“Good.” 

“Ditto…” 

“Won’t work” he smiled, moving his lips from her jaw to suckle at her breast. His lips closed around her nipple, sending lightning through her and her back arched towards him in an effort to be as close to him as possible. She felt rather than heard his soft growl, a masculine and desperate sound that would forever be ingrained into her memory. 

Her bra joined her clothes on the floor and their hands set about mapping each other’s flesh. For a long while, neither of them spoke. They communicated in whimpers and soft touches, Jaime doing his best to drive her wild--or test her patience. 

_”We wants him. We needs him”_ her mind screamed. 

_”Yeah--I’m trying here!”_ she mentally yelled back. 

_”Try harder!”_

_”Fuck off!”_

“I think” Jaime muttered as he released her breasts. “That you should never wear clothes again.” 

“Might make grocery shopping awkward” she laughed. 

“True. Not to mention, I don’t share,” his hand slid under the elastic of her panties, briefly cupping her hip before moving to her center--where she may or may not have made sure to groom before making the drive to the hotel. What? Just because he _said_ slow didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be prepared for any action she could get. She wasn't _that_ stupid.

“Fuck” she gasped when his fingers brushed then circled her clit. The man knew exactly what he was doing to her, could feel how soaked she was already--it would probably be embarrassing if the press of his hardened cock against her allowed her brain to function. It felt big and all she wanted to do was rip his pants off and--oh fuck. It didn’t take long, between Jaime’s fingers and his mouth that was shockingly talented, she could only sob in pleasure as he coaxed her body over the edge. 

“You’re so beautiful when you come” Jaime’s fingers slowed, then tugged her underwear down her legs to toss them aside. “Shit” he blurted out, eyes going wide. 

“Well I’ve never gotten that reaction before” she laughed. 

“No--shut up,” Jaime laughed with her. “I just realized I don’t have any condoms.” 

“Shit” she agreed, then let the smirk curl her lips. “There might be some in my purse.” 

“Oh really, Stark?” he challenged and she gave a small shrug. 

“Girl has to be prepared when she goes to her man’s penthouse. Drug store was next to the diner, so...” 

“I like your style” he stole a quick kiss before rushing from the room--moving rather awkwardly thanks to the tent in the front of his lounge pants. He was only gone long enough for her to scoot towards the center of the bed, and when he returned he wore _only_ the condom. It was a very good look.

“Well, now” she admired his body as he approached, seeing no reason to be shy about eyeballing the very proud and impressive erection he was sporting. “My turn to like your style” she said as he tossed a few more condoms onto the night table and crawled onto the bed beside her. 

“We are pretty stylish” he settled between her legs and she wrapped them around his waist. Wasting no time-- _we needs him_ , she reached between them and guided him to her drenched folds. “I’ve wanted to do this since that first night we spent on the balcony.” 

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah--fuuuck” he groaned as he sank into her, the delicious burn of being stretched coursing through her blood. She will never forget the sound that rumbled from the back of Jaime’s throat as he bottomed out, their bodies finally joined after what felt like hours of teasing. Resuming their languid pace from before, she kept her arms and legs around him as he made love to her--as they made love to each other. 

“So good. Why did we wait so long to do this?” she clung to his shoulders, turning to close the distance between their lips, kissing him deeply. He felt incredible--above her, within her, strong, solid and warm, each muscle flexing as he moved. It almost seemed surreal, to be in this moment with Jaime--her Jaime, absolutely lost in him. 

“I have no idea. Fuck you feel so fucking good” Jaime mumbled against her mouth, the gentle rock of his hips giving way to harder, deeper thrusts. 

“So do you” she smiled into their kiss, every fiber of her being electrified. “Oh Gods, so do you---Jaime, don't stop, I’m gonna come again...” she mewled, her climax rapidly approaching. Jaime sped his movements, a hand going to her thigh, holding it high against his side as they both raced towards their peak. 

Jaime uttered a series of growls and filthy words but she barely had time to register them before fire streaked through her as her orgasm slammed into her. Throwing her head back--she might have called out his name, riding out her pleasure as Jaime slid deep holding her tightly as he came. 

“Fuck, Ditto” she laughed breathlessly, kissing his temple as he collapsed atop her. 

“You came and I lost it,” he laughed. “Fuck that was incredible” he lifted his head to bump her nose with his. 

“I would be inclined to agree” she ran her hands through his hair. 

“How ‘bout this” he rose up to rest on an elbow. “I deal with the condom, you get the food and we meet back here for ‘naked-dinner’.” 

“Hmm” she made a great show of thinking it over. “Deal.”

Jaime flopped onto the bed beside Sansa, admiring the lovely view of her sans-clothing as she unpacked the take away bag from the diner. Her porcelain skin was still flushed from their love making, her hair a bit tangled but her smile...Gods, her smile was stunning. 

“It’s not exactly warm anymore, but..” she lifted a burger from its tray, taking a big bite before holding it out for him to do the same. “Still so good” she said with her mouth full, laughing as he took a bite. She wasn’t wrong, it was good--damned good. 

“We worked up an appetite” he stole a french fry. 

“You did all the work” she countered. “This time.” 

“This time” he agreed. They worked their way through the burger and fries before moving on to the container that held lemon cakes. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had eaten in bed--when he was a kid most likely, probably when he was sick. But their picnic was perfect and very _them_ and definitely better than the evening alone he'd thought he would have. Sansa's surprise visit was a most welcome one. 

“You’re thinking too hard,” Sansa teased, holding a lemon cake out for him to bite. “Eat.” 

“I am eating” he reasoned. 

“Eat, then we can snuggle” she waggled her eyebrows, making him laugh. 

“Snuggle, huh” he took a bite of the cake, leaving the rest for Sansa.

“Uh huh” she nodded. “I like ‘naked-dinner’,” she added, her eyes wandering his naked body. He knew that he had nothing to be ashamed of, he’d been working his ass off filming an action movie for the last four months and it showed in his form, still he wondered what was going through her mind, so he asked her. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“I was just thinking about how much more I would enjoy this lemon cake, if I were to eat it while riding that wonderful cock of yours, Ditto” she smirked. 

“Well” he felt his cock stir at the idea and he shifted higher on the bed, his back against the headboard. “What are you waiting for, Stark?” 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_Barristan sat atop his destrier, staring across the expanse that lay before him. He’d been stripped of his title, he’d cut down a monarch and he’d lost the love of his life. He was a man broken, a man without a path or a plan. A man alone._

_He had gathered what little belongings he had to his name and they now lay in the saddlebags behind his seat. Gone was his white cloak and golden armor, in its place was worn black iron armor and a cloak of red across his shoulders. A knight no longer, instead he was just a Selmy..._

_“Buggering dragon cunts” the rich rumble of The Hound’s voice sounded as the larger man reined his own black charger to a halt beside him. “She’s going to be a shit Queen.”_

_“She is not my problem anymore” Barristan replied without turning to face the scarred man. He hadn't gone to The Hound's quarters to say goodbye, having been escorted from the palace by several guards, but he was certain that his friend would have brushed aside any sentimental words regardless._

_“Nor mine” The Hound said and Jaime did turn to him then, shocked to see him clad in all black, vibrant yellow cloak hanging around him._

_“What have you done--”_

_“Aye, fuck yer yappin’,” The Hound shook his head. “Yer the only man in this Gods-forsaken City I trust--don’t let it go to your head.”_

_“Wouldn’t dream of it” Barristan replied._

_“Where you go, I go” The Hound added. “We’ll watch each others’ backs out there like we did in the guard, only we won’t do it for the fucking mad dragons.”_

_“Alright” he looked back to the horizon. “Which direction will it be then?”_

_“Doesn’t matter” his companion replied. “Just pick one and get us the fuck away from here--can still smell it burning” he grimaced. Barristan looked to the North and, with a soft nudge to his mount, they started their journey._

“Look at you, smug bastard” Sandor playfully elbowed Jaime. The two stood together, enjoying the expensive champagne that had been thrust into their hands by some nameless assistant a few moments ago. The entire cast and crew stood around catering, anxiously awaiting a closing speech from their director. 

“What?” Jaime whispered back, knowing that there was no hiding the satisfied smile on his face. He’d been late to set this morning, a first for him, but he had been reluctant to leave his bed and the siren that slept beside him. 

Sansa was incredible in so many ways and last night...Gods. He had intended to take things slowly, to properly woo her and set a foundation for their relationship but--yeah no, he had no intention of easing back now. The only downside to having spent two nights sleeping beside her was that he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep without her there. At the very least he wouldn’t enjoy it, that was for damned sure. 

“Uh huh,” Sandor chuckled. “Go ahead and pretend we both don’t know why you were late this morning.” 

“That’s none of your business” Jaime smirked. 

"Pretty little birdie in your bed." 

"No clue" he chuckled.

“Right” Sandor shook his head but the smile didn’t leave his lips. “When do you head back to the city?” 

“End of the week” Jaime replied. “Sansa is going with; the studio set up a place for her to stay while she works on the last bit of the screenplay for _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_. You're welcome to join us, they're sending a jet for her.” 

“Must be nice" he nodded. "I think I will join you, thanks. You see they already sent out the schedule for costumes and fittings, you and I are going to get sick of each other.” 

“You mean we aren’t already?” Jaime countered. 

“Fair enough” Sandor nodded. 

“Selmy and the Hound” Jaime scoffed. “Gods, we’re insane, aren’t we?” 

“In the best possible way” Sandor agreed. “At least we get to wear armor instead of spandex this go-round.” 

“If I never have to wear spandex again, I would die happy” Jaime laughed as the stunt director joined them. “Bolton,” Jaime greeted. 

“Gentlemen” Roose gave a nod. “I’ve just received word that we’ll be working together again very soon.” 

“ _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_?” Jaime asked and Roose nodded. 

“Should be an exciting shoot” Roose agreed, looking to Sandor. “And this time I won’t have occasion to throw you through so many walls.” 

“Thank fuck for that” Sandor scoffed as their director appeared and all three shifted their attention to his oncoming speech. They all listened, of course they did, and soon they were raising their glasses in celebration, sipping champagne and saying their farewells. Jaime stuck with Sandor, the two of them not really needing to say farewell to each other since their next project would have them working together for several years. Instead they waited a polite amount of time before they slipped from the gathering and wandered towards Jaime’s awaiting car. 

“Lunch?” Jaime asked. 

“You buying?” 

“Fuck no” he laughed and Sandor nodded. 

“Fine, first round’s on the Hound” Sandor clapped him on the shoulder. 

“You have everything?” Arya asked, trailing behind Sansa as she packed up the last of the items she would need from her office. 

“Yeah, I think so” Sansa nodded. Jaime will be here soon to pick me up and we’re taking a jet that the studio sent for us. 

“Ohhh, fancy” Arya whistled. “Does that mean there is ‘jet sex’ if your future?” 

“No” Sansa rolled her eyes. “Sandor is travelling with us and I would rather not have an audience.” 

“Maybe you could have them both” Arya suggested and Sansa sighed in exasperation. 

“I’ll pass.” 

“Guess you’re just into superheroes. Goin’ after that super-d!”

“Let me tell you, Ya-ya, that man is shredded” she laughed. “Him wearing clothing is absolutely criminal.”

“Oh reall---wait a fucking minute!” Arya’s ears perked up and she rounded the kitchen counter to take Sansa by the shoulders. “Did you get it and _NOT_ tell me?” 

“Ya-ya--” 

“YOU DID!” Arya gasped. “How dare you deprive me of details! You’re the worst Sister ever!” 

“Take that back!” Sansa gasped. 

“Not until you _tell me_!”

“I am not giving you details!”

“You have to give me something! Anything! Was it good? Bad? Life-changing?” 

“It was phenomenal and that is all I am telling you.” 

“Phenomenal” Arya repeated, releasing her hold on Sansa’s arms. “Damn! How is this fair, you’re literally banging a superhero and I can’t get a date!”

“That’s because you don’t try,” Sansa argued. 

“I am saving myself for Asha--and nuh-uh, we’re not changing the subject” Arya followed as Sansa walked through the kitchen to her office, grabbing several worn copies of _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_. “You know, I am actually proud of you.” 

“What? Proud?”

“Yeah” Arya continued as they walked back to the kitchen. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaime’s voice echoed from the front door as he let himself in. 

“Yeah, you lived far too long as a nun, I am proud that you put yourself out there” Arya explained. 

“Well, it was worth it. He is worth it,” Sansa smiled as Jaime appeared in the kitchen. 

“Damn right I am--what are we talking about?” he asked, stealing a kiss. Sansa pointedly ignored Arya’s gagging sound. “You ready?” 

“Yeah, I only have a few bags,” Sansa told him. “This one being the most important” she patted her laptop bag with a smile. 

“I saw them in the foyer, Cley is loading them into the car. And you do know that I fully plan on hacking into your laptop and reading whatever top secret project you’ve been working on” Jaime smirked. 

“You can try” Sansa slung it over her shoulder. “You will fail.” 

“I’ll seduce it out of you then” Jaime whispered. 

“I’m still standing here!” Arya interjected. 

“You can try” Sansa softly kissed him. 

“Right here!” Arya sighed. 

“I think we’ll both enjoy any seduction--” 

“I am literally still here.” 

“Yeah, why are you?” Jaime made a buzzing noise, waving his hand at Arya but she only slapped it away. 

“I was here first, Jacket” she argued as he slapped back at her hand. Soon they were slap-fighting like toddlers which, while amusing, was going to make them late.

“Alright, we’re going” Sansa broke them apart, making her way to the front door where Cley was waiting. She handed him her laptop bag and thanked him with a smile. 

“Well.” 

“Well?” Sansa smiled over at her Sister as she and Jaime emerged from the house. 

“You get laid and boom you’re running off to the city” Arya snarked, shaking her head. “Must be some damned good dick.” 

“Oh, please” Sansa rolled her eyes. 

“I mean, she certainly wasn’t complaining” Jaime laughed, sharing a low-five with Arya. 

“Gods, you two” Sansa shook her head. “Don’t encourage her.” 

“She’s just playing nice in the hopes that I will introduce her to Asha Greyjoy” Jaime explained. 

“Truth” Arya nodded, turning back to Sansa. “I will keep an eye on the house, and once you’re settled I will come visit, we can tear up the town.” 

“Sounds reasonable” Sansa hugged her Sister tight. “Love you, see you soon, Ya-ya---ah!!” Sansa laughed wildly as Jaime scooped her up the moment she released Arya, carrying her towards the awaiting car. 

“Bye Ya-ya!” Jaime threw over his shoulder. 

“Travel safe, Jacket-Potato!” Arya yelled back as Jaime deposited her in the back seat. 

“Onward, Cley!” Sansa beamed as Jaime slid in beside her. “Hollywood awaits!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to join the fun on tumblr! Thank YOU for reading!


	12. Part 12: Rising Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start by showing off this fantastic moodboard from Brewery421! You can find it [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/626388352110936064/), and I love it so much! Make sure to show it some love. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the love and support. As always, it means more than I can possibly say! :) <3 We're now officially in Hollywood and settling into the life of glitz. Before we dive too far in, however, I have one more lovely man I need to bring into this story, just to round everything out ;) I think you will approve!
> 
> Enjoy, thank you, and stay safe!

Jaime woke slowly, oddly aware that the bed beside him was emptier than it had been a few hours ago when they'd finally collapsed into exhaustion. He would never, ever tire of making love to Sansa. It just wasn't physically possible. Lifting his head, he saw that Sansa was gone, the blankets pulled back up to a pillow that was probably already cool. A glance at the clock beside the bed told him it was just past seven in the morning, which meant that Sansa had gotten another early start on the day. He should be used to that by now, but it still amazed him how much of a morning person she was.

They’d been in Hollywood almost a moon’s turn now, settling into life in the crazy city with relative ease. It was obvious, to him at least, that Sansa missed the quiet, easy pace of the North, and he was surprised to discover that he did too. Things were easier in the North. Quiet. Peaceful. Less chaotic and certainly less paparazzi chasing them everywhere they went. 

Their instagram battle, while an absolute blast, had worked the media into a lather and now that they were so accessible in the entertainment capital. It was exhausting to be here, especially now that _the_ Jaime Lannister had made it clear that he was in a relationship with Alayne Stone. 

Pushing the covers away, he slid from the bed--well, their bed more like. It wasn’t as if they’d spent much time apart once they’d arrived here. Jaime more often than not, found himself at Sansa’s lovely oceanside apartment that the studio had arranged. The security was top notch and it was far enough from the neighbors to afford them a bit of privacy. They hadn't discussed it, not in so many words, but it felt right to fall into this routine together. And so, he let his own penthouse in the city lay empty. 

He didn’t bother to pull on a shirt and instead padded down the hall and stairs in his boxer briefs. He went automatically to the office where Sansa had organized for her work, a lovely ground floor room with a view of the ocean. He smiled, leaning against the door jam, finding her exactly where he expected. She wore only his t-shirt, one leg on the chair beside her with her cheek resting against her knee while she read over what she had just written. 

A sennight ago he had snuck a photo of her in almost the exact same position, though he had captured her from the side to ensure he didn’t show any portion of her monitor. She had been hard at work, a pencil over one ear and a worried smile on her face, but she had never looked more beautiful. _‘The maestro at work… #HomeisWhereSheIs #Kingslayer #DoItForEdd’_ he had commented and the soft expression in her eyes when she read it hours later would forever be ingrained in his memory. 

“Did you eat, Early Bird?” he asked and she jumped in surprise, rotating in her chair to face him. 

“No,” she smiled sheepishly. “I woke up with the most brilliant idea and I just had to get it down.” 

“Alright” he ran a hand through his hair, moving closer to steal a kiss. As he approached, however, she deftly minimized the word document with a flick of her wrist. “Tease” he chided as he kissed her. 

“I can’t let you in on all of my secrets, Ditto” she playfully swatted his hip. 

“Sure you can,” he chuckled. “Just let me read a little--” 

“No” she laughed, batting his hand away as he reached for the keyboard. “It’s top secret.” 

“Top secret” he scoffed, though the sound was closer to laughter than disbelief. 

“Top. Secret,” she repeated. 

“Fine, fine” he pulled the chair away from the desk. “Come make breakfast with me and I will stop bothering you.” 

“You never bother me” she pushed to her feet and his arm wound around her lower back. 

“Well I have to be at the studio in a few hours, so at least you will have peace and quiet then” he said. “The thought of having to deal with the execs actually makes me miss waking up at 5 in the morning to exercise.” 

“Deal with them, and then we can sit on the deck and watch the sunset over the ocean” Sansa said enticingly, her hand tracing over her stomach. 

“Naked sunset?” he raised a brow. 

“Maybe, Ditto” she smirked, leading him to the kitchen. 

“I am curious about one thing” he asked, trailing behind her. 

“What’s that?” she threw over her shoulder as she opened the fridge. 

“Has Stannis read what you’re writing?” he asked and there was no reply for several seconds. Sansa stood straight, closing the fridge door before turning to him with an unreadable expression. 

“Ditto….” she paused. “Are you jealous?” her smile was almost as smug as it was amused and he felt his cheeks heat in response. 

“No--” 

“Yes” she laughed, stepping closer to wrap her arms around his waist, toying with the back elastic on his boxer briefs. “Oh, you _are_ precious.” 

_Precious_ \--Shut up! 

“Stark…” he rumbled the warning, lifting her to set her ass on the granite countertop. Just as he’d hoped, her legs wrapped around him, holding him captive. 

“He hasn’t,” she shook her head, her tone suddenly serious. “The only one that will read anything before it’s finished is Shae. It’s nothing personal, Jaime, I promise. It’s just….” she took a deep breath. “As many books as I’ve sold, I still feel odd exposing my writing to those closest to me.” 

“I understand” he nodded, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "Begrudgingly" he added. 

“And as for _Stannis_ ,” she kissed his chin. “There is nothing to worry about there, you know that right?” 

“It’s a strange feeling,” he mused. 

“What is?” 

“Missing you, knowing that while I’m stuck at photoshoots and interviews that you’re huddling over scripts and dialogue with Stannis Baratheon” Jaime explained. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. “I’ve never felt like this before…” 

“Jaime…” 

“So out of control and so at peace at the same time” he continued. 

“It’s wild, isn’t it?” 

“Very” he agreed. 

“We’re in it together, Ditto, don’t worry” she assured him. 

“Does that mean you’re willing to meet my parents?” he ventured, broaching a subject that had been at the back of his mind for a while. 

“You want me to meet your parents” she pulled back to look into his eyes, processing his words. 

“I do” he nodded. “My Mom’s been asking--hounding me about really for a while, and since we’re in the city now…” 

“A-alright” she swallowed. “I’ve never done that before, the ‘meet my folks’ thing” she laughed. “Don’t expect me to do the same, I haven’t seen my parents since last Christmas.” 

“I've already met Arya, which I think is more important anyway” he reasoned and she nodded in agreement. 

“True," she agreed. “Alright, when?”

“I’ll call my Mom later” he decided that breakfast could wait and instead scooped up Sansa, carrying her back towards the stairs. 

“What about breakfast?” Sansa laughed, clinging to him with her arms and legs. 

“We’ve got time” he took the stairs as quickly as he could. “For now we have better things to do” he added, carrying her back to the bedroom where they forgot about the world for a long while. 

“Jaime? Hi!” his Mom picked up on the second ring, her familiar voice bringing a smile to his face. 

“Hi Mom,” he said, relaxing against the seat as Cley drove him to the studio for his meetings with the execs and a few interviews. 

“I was hoping to hear from you soon” she continued, launching into a story about how his Father, Tywin, was driving her nuts now that he had finally retired. They were still adjusting, he supposed, to spending so much time together and there was sure to be some growing pains.

Jaime listened intently as his Mom told story after story, enjoying the dynamic between his parents that had always been fascinating. As serious and intimidating as Tywin Lannister--the Great Lion was, Joanna Lannister was soft and loving. Jaime knew that he couldn’t have asked for a better Mother, him, Cersei and Tyrion had never lacked for any affection or care. They were lucky, luckier than he knew Arya and Sansa had been, since their relationships with their family were so strained. 

“So what do you think?” Joanna asked and he kicked his brain into gear. 

“I think Saturday could work,” he replied. “I will talk to Sansa and double check. We can make the drive to The Rock sometime in the morning.” 

“That would be so lovely” Joanna sighed and he could almost see the dreamy look that would surely be on her face. “I am just so...so happy for you, Jaime. I know that things haven’t been easy, being as famous as you are has so many pitfalls and downsides. Heavens I can’t go to the store without seeing your face on some billboard or magazine. But Cersei showed me the Instagrams and it's just...I can’t wait to meet your lady friend.” 

“Instagram, Mom” he chuckled. “Singular. And yes, I think you’re going to like my Sansa, she’s...something else.”

“I am looking forward to it, I will call Tyrion and Cersei too,” Joanna replied, the sudden booming voice of his Father sounding in the background. “I’d better go,” Joanna sighed. “He’s ranting about the stock market again.” 

“Some things never change” Jaime laughed. 

“Never, love you baby.” 

“Love you, Mom” he replied and ended the call. Closing the phone app, he smiled as he opened the Instagram app to see he’d been tagged in a photo. “Sneaky sneaky” he laughed as the photo loaded revealing a picture that Sansa had taken of him as he’d adjusted his tie in the mirror just a short while ago. 

_‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall… #HestheFairest #OfThemAll #Kingslayer #DoitforEdd #BossBabe_ he read the caption and scrolled through the comments. While you couldn’t see her in the photograph, the corner of their bed was visible and it was obviously well-slept in, something several people had caught on to. 

Before he could type a reply, however, the car turned into the studio driveway, making its way past the photographers who found it amusing to bang on the windows of the car. 

“Leeches” Smalljon muttered from the passenger seat and Jaime couldn’t help but mentally agree. A pang of longing echoed across his heart, missing the North and the peace and quiet they’d had there. “Ready, boss?” Smalljon asked as they pulled through security and towards the offices. 

“As I’ll ever be” Jaime nodded. Showtime. 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_Barristan reined his horse to a stop, The Hound stopping beside him as they faced the frozen tundra together. The snow storm had been sudden and unrelenting, slowing their travels to a crawl and now forcing them to decide where they could take shelter for the night._

_”Fuck” The Hound muttered, looking across the horizon._

_“What?” Barristan looked to where The Hound was and felt his heart begin to race. There on the horizon was a hunting party of at least a score of men. But not just any men, these were Free Folk, each of them wrapped in a mish-mash of furs and mounted atop great beasts of horses._

_“It’s been a pleasure fucking knowing you” The Hound scoffed._

_“Maybe they won’t kill us?” he suggested lamely._

_“Aye” The Hound growled. “Mayhaps they’ll fucking eat us too.”_

_“Well, well” the accented voice of their leader, a great ginger giant of a man sounded as they approached. “What pretty little golden knights have we here. Here to rescue the realm?” he laughed and the others joined in, more than ready to follow their leader._

_“My name is Barristan Selmy, and I--”_

_“The ‘Dragon Slayer’?” someone asked in the back of the group and immediately whispers began to build in the background._

_“Aye” Barristan nodded. “And with me is The Hound---”_

_“You mean ‘The Mountain Slayer’?” the Free Folk whispered._

_“Cunt of a Mountain” The Hound grumbled, but Barristan knew that their reputations, good or not, had preceded them all the way to the edges of the North._

_“Well then” the ginger man crossed his arms, a smile toying at his lips. “Tell us, Dragon Slayer, did he bleed the blood of a man or that of the vile beast within?”_

_“He bled like a man” Barristan replied, pushing away the awful memories of that night. “He was no dragon at the end.” At this, the ginger laughed, slapping his thigh with enthusiasm._

_“I am Mance Rayder, leader of the Free Folk” he introduced himself. “I am more than happy to welcome such illustrious fighters to the North. Come, join us, we have food aplenty and shelter from the storm._

_“Thank you, we are most grateful” Barristan quickly replied, looking to The Hound and sharing a nod with his travel companion. They would proceed, but with great caution._

_“Come, come” the King repeated, turning his horse back to the North. “And while we ride, I can tell you about the time I fucked a bear!” he declared proudly, his men bursting into laughter around him._

_Barristan and The Hound looked at each other once more, silently exchanging their disbelief of what they’d just heard._

“Be serious for two minutes, Ya-ya,” Sansa laughed, leaning back in the lounger on the deck, holding her phone up at an awkward angle to continue their video chat. She’d spent several hours working and decided to stretch her back and enjoy some fresh air for a while. The view from her office was fantastic, but out on the deck she could truly experience the fresh ocean air. It was the perfect opportunity to check in with her baby Sister. She didn’t need an excuse to call Arya, they talked all the time, but Jaime asking her to meet his parents had left her more than a little nervous. 

“I am,” Arya rolled her eyes. “I just wish I could be a fly on the wall when you meet the Great Lion. The man is fucking terrifying--I watched this YouTube compilation of all of his worst rants, like, he’s a legend.” 

“You’re not helping me feel _less_ nervous about meeting his parents,” Sansa sighed. “I called you for help, not...YouTube recommendations.” 

“I’ll send you the link, I am not shitting you” Arya laughed. “I swear he made this one stock broker shit himself.” 

“Great” Sansa laid her head back against the cushion. “Great.” 

“But I am sure you will be fine” Arya waved off her concern with a flippant hand. “It isn’t like Jaime will let him make you cry.” 

“Arya--” 

“Fine, fine” Arya smiled. “You will be fine, San. Everyone loves you anyway, and Jaime thinks the sun shines out of your ass.” 

“That’s...graphic.” 

“It’s true,” Arya countered. “And you, he’s like your very own Prince Charming, I saw that picture this morning” she added and Sansa felt her cheeks heat. 

“He hasn’t responded yet, I don’t think he saw it before all of his meetings” she shrugged. 

“Regardless, you will be fine” Arya soldiered on. “Nothing can be worse than Mom and Dad.” 

“Fair enough” Sansa nodded. “Speaking of, they have been suspiciously quiet about this whole social media thing.” 

“Robb mentioned it in passing when he called the other day, but really he only used it as a means to open conversation” Arya grimaced. “Apparently his transmission is slipping and he wanted advice.” 

“Gods, Ya-ya, I hope you sent him an invoice for your time” Sansa rolled her eyes. 

“Oh! I should” Arya smirked and Sansa knew that it was as good as done. It was just like Robb, only calling when he needed something for himself. “So…what are you wearing to meet the ‘rents? Something wholesome or something slutty---” 

“Ya-ya!” Sansa laughed, feeling the mood suddenly lighten. 

“Wholesome then” Arya nodded. “Just don’t wear something boring, alright? Be you, and if they don’t like it, fuck ‘em.” 

“Easier said than done” Sansa replied. 

“I have to run, someone just came in the shop” Arya looked behind her before standing from her desk. 

“Okay, love you” Sansa said. 

“Love you” Arya replied, ending the call. Sansa lowered her arm, closing her eyes for a few minutes as she soaked up the shoreline sun. The warmth felt lovely against her skin, but still she missed the crisp, clean air of the North. 

She knew that she would be here, in the South, for a while--several moons at least, but eventually they would travel North to begin filming. Stannis’ team had found several fantastic locations and she couldn’t wait to see them in person. Being on set for filming meant long hours and lots of hard work, but she was more than willing to put in the time to see her dreams come to life. 

It also meant that she would be able to spend time with Jaime, which was admittedly one of her favorite things to do. 

Deciding that she’d had enough of the sun--lest her pale skin burn to a crisp, she made her way back inside. She poured herself a glass of water before returning to her desk and the extended adventures of The Hound that awaited. 

About an hour later she was pulled from her work by the chime of the front gate letting her know that Jaime’s car had returned. Grabbing her phone she realized she had missed several notifications from him because she had been so lost in her writing. Quickly saving her progress she was just reaching the foyer when the front door opened and the largest ginger she had ever seen stepped inside. 

“Honey, I’m home!” his deeply accented voice rang out and a split second later came Sandor’s deep voice. 

“Gods, shut yer yammering mouth” Sandor grumbled, his large form appearing and Jaime at his back. "Fucking ginger." Jaime, to his credit, was carefully balancing a stack of pizza boxes with a bag precariously perched on top. 

“Hey San,” Sandor greeted her with that crooked smile of his. 

“Hey San,” she smiled back, having fallen into an easy friendship with the intimidating man. 

“Ah, she is a glorious ginger, indeed!” the red headed man continued and this time Jaime rolled his eyes. 

“You already knew that Tormund,” Jaime laughed, moving toward the kitchen but quickly stealing a kiss on his way. “I brought pizza, a salad, and a couple of strays.” 

“I see that” she laughed. "I'm sorry I missed your messages, I was writing." 

“I figured, it's alright. That’s Tormund Giantsbane, if you haven’t figured that out” Jaime said. 

“Ah yes, I figured that out” Sansa extended her hand to him. “You’re the one they’ve enlisted to play the Free Folk King.” 

“I am, Mance Rayder at your service” Tormund smiled brightly. Between his khaki slacks and his plaid flannel shirt, he looked more like a lumberjack than a King, but she could tell that his boisterous personality would translate well on screen. “It is a pleasure to meet you” he grabbed her hand, pulling her into a tight hug. 

“Buggering hells, kiss ass” Sandor muttered, following Jaime’s path to the kitchen. 

“Alright then” Sansa laughed when Tormund abruptly released her. “Shall we eat?” 

A short while later, they were all seated on the back deck, pizza and wine spread across the table, all of them sitting in the comfy couches around it as they laughed. They were sharing stories and adventures, Sansa happily listening from her position snuggled into Jaime’s side. She was enjoying seeing the men behind the biggest names in Hollywood. While Jaime was the ‘playboy’, Sandor the ‘villain’ and Tormund the ‘character’, it was a unique opportunity to see behind the facades of them all. 

Of course, she had already met Sandor several times and immediately realized that he was far from the villain he always played on screen. Like Jaime, he was an avid reader and spent much of his time traveling reading and rereading his favorite novels. 

And now, with the addition of Tormund to the group, she could see how he was always able to portray such larger than life characters. His latest film, another adaptation of _’Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’_ had him in the leading role and, she agreed, he was the perfect choice for a slightly-deranged candy tycoon. 

And Jaime, he looked so relaxed here. He had ditched his suit jacket and tie in the kitchen, rolling his dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows and gotten to work serving pizza. He was just…so real. Far from the playboy she’d thought him to be, he was down-to-earth and well-spoken--more intelligent than any gave him credit for.

“So tell me, Sansa” Tormund fixed her with his vibrant blue stare. “Do I really get to fuck a bear?” he asked and she nearly choked on her wine. Coughing she covered her mouth with her hand while she swallowed it, knowing her cheeks were bright red.

“I believe” she began, not missing how Tormund leaned closer. “That in this case, saying ‘bear’ means a large, ugly woman.” 

“I told you” Sandor scoffed, shaking his head. “Why would anyone fuck a bear, you daft old dog.” The more she observed Sandor, the more she realized that he _was_ The Hound, it was uncanny. 

“I had high hopes” Tormund gave an exaggerated sigh. "Imagine, me tumbling with a CGI bear!"

“I can’t believe I have to make three movies with you” Jaime laughed. “I am going to lose my damned mind!” 

“But what a way to go” Tormund waggled his eyebrows. 

If only Jaime knew, Sansa mused to herself, sipping from her wine once more. The story of the Kingslayer was far from over, it was only just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STAY SAFE!


	13. Part 13: Montage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well....we meet again! Thank you all so much for the love and support. I know that I say it a lot--and I am sure that it is old hat by now, but your support it means more than I can possibly say! :) 
> 
> Our leads are living the high life in Hollywood/King's Landing and, well, it's time to meet the Lannisters! Of course, I can never resist my signature Cersei--she is the Queen! ;) oh, and...the Mannis! ;) 
> 
> Reminder that you can find picsets, etc on my tumblr @the-red-wulf! Come join the fun! Enjoy, thank you, and stay safe!

“Sansa, are you alright?” Stannis asked, watching her with those sharp, keen eyes of his from across the table. 

“Yes--yeah, I am fine” she shook her head, setting down the stack of headshots they’d been sorting through. “Sorry I am so distracted today,” she sighed. “I’m meeting Jaime’s parents tonight and I am nervous to say the least.” 

“Ah” Stannis gave a small nod. “Meeting the parents is intimidating for anyone, I would assume. Toss in the 'Great Lion' and, well…” 

“Exactly” she laughed, pushing her hair from her face as she sank into her chair. “He’s going to chew me up and spit me out, isn’t he?” 

“Hardly” Stannis scoffed, returning to work. He was a unique sort of man, Stannis Baratheon; meticulous, serious, and surprisingly detail oriented. Those qualities were what had ensured he was _the_ sought after director in Hollywood. Before she had met him, she was terrified by the scowl and clenched jaw that she had seen in photographs, but now that she had begun working with him, she realized that the scowl was merely because he hated the spotlight. He ‘did his duty’ to each film that he worked on, gave it his heart and soul in order to make it the best. The rest, he claimed, was just an ‘over the top clown fiesta’--his words. 

So in reality, the truth of Stannis Baratheon was that he was a quiet, private man who didn’t enjoy playing the media’s game. He did so only to serve his work and did so begrudgingly, something she found she admired about him.

After all, he had taken a large risk in taking on a project this large, especially one that the author insisted on being involved throughout production. While some men would have balked at having the author nitpicking every decision, Stannis seemed to thrive on it. Sansa knew that with him as the director, _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ would receive the dedication it deserved. 

“What about him?” she pushed a photograph towards him and Stannis shook his head. 

“Face is too round, eyes have no presence” he replied without pause. “While his isn’t a large part, you said it yourself, Lionel Selmy is a man with hawkish, imposing features.” 

“And epic sideburns” Sansa laughed, adding the photograph to the ‘no’ pile. 

“Yes, those are going to be lovely” Stannis replied dryly, a bit of sarcasm in his words. 

“Listen, Mr. Director, I didn’t originally write this for the silver screen” she mocked. 

“No, but we have now,” he countered smoothly. “And of late, _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ has absorbed my entire life. I think I've read and reread it a dozen times now.” 

“You say that like it is a bad thing” she picked up another photo and quickly set it on the ‘no’ pile. 

“I will confess to you and only you,” he began. “I have never directed an epic series like this before, and I am quite excited to have the opportunity to do so now.” 

“I am glad to hear that” she agreed, returning to work, allowing them to lapse into a comfortable silence. They worked in relative silence for a few more hours before Sansa gave a deep sigh and stood from her chair. 

“Infuriating, isn’t it?” Stannis’ amused chuckle followed her as she crossed to turn on the coffee maker. “Casting the right person for the role.” 

“I didn’t realize it would be just as frustrating as writing them in the first place” Sansa agreed. “Coffee?” 

“Yes, thank you” Stannis stood and stretched, joining her impromptu break. “I am curious,” he began. “According to your editor, you had Jaime Lannister in mind to play Barristan from the start.” 

“I did” Sansa nodded. “It was one of the stipulations for making the films. He was, in my mind, the perfect one for the role.” 

“It’s a far cry from what he has done before” Stannis reasoned. “I think 'Captain Westeros' is his most serious role yet--and that film hasn't even come out yet” his lips twitched into a smirk and she knew that Stannis was making a joke.

“Dreadfully serious,” Sansa poured them each a mug of coffee. “It’s hard to explain but from the moment I saw Jaime, I just _knew_ that he was Barristan. He was exactly as I had pictured him to be” Sansa explained, unwilling to let Stannis in on the tiny detail that she had mentally made Jaime 'her' Barristan before the books were even published. 

“Oh to see inside that mind of yours” Stannis mused. 

“I assure you, it’s not worth the time” Sansa smiled, picking up her coffee and walking to the window. Beyond the glass lay a sea of sound stages and office buildings, all of which were filled with actors and crew alike. It was humbling to be standing here, to look out over the world and know that she had created a story worthy of the silver screen.

“I disagree” Stannis stood beside her, both of them looking to the horizon. “Your mind has conjured a story that has captivated the world. You’ve done something incredible, even without the movie contracts. Together, and with the help of your beau, we’re going to ensure it lives on forever” he assured her. Sansa pondered his words for several moments, sipping from her coffee before she replied. 

“You’re right” she turned to him. “We’re going to knock it out of the park.” 

“I would be inclined to agree” he raised his mug in salute and she clinked hers against his in a makeshift toast. 

“To _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ , may it be our crowning glory and not our grave marker” Sansa teased and Stannis’ rich laughter filled the conference room. 

“To _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ ” he agreed. 

Sansa swallowed the lump in her throat as Jaime piloted his sleek luxury sedan down the gated drive, the sprawling sight of the Lannister family estate looming before them--oh Gods this was too real. The success-high from this afternoon had faded, leaving behind a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. 

She hoped to the Gods that the Lannisters didn’t hate her. Please.... _They loves us_ \---shut up!

Roughly exhaling, she drank in every detail of the great house and its surrounding land. How much money did the Great Lion have, good Gods. She felt Jaime’s hand take hers and turned to watch him lift it to his lips, placing a kiss on the knuckles. 

“You’ll be fine” Jaime said softly, his eyes dancing with excitement. “They’ll love you.” 

“You can’t know that, Ditto” she squeezed his fingers. 

“I like to think I know my family,” he chuckled, parking the car in ‘u’ shaped driveway in front of the entry stairs. “Besides, even if they don’t like you, you’re still the first person _any_ of their children has brought home to meet them.” 

“Really?” 

“Really” he nodded. “Cersei is too stubbornly independent to settle down and Tyrion is much too busy chasing his second PhD.” 

“And you?” 

“Well” she had the great pleasure of watching his cheeks turn a soft pink. “I just hadn’t met the right person.” 

“Mmhmm” she smirked. “A likely story, Playboy Ditto.”

“Oh shut up, you” he leaned across the console to give her a soft, lingering kiss in the same moment the front door opened. “Showtime” he squeezed her hand one last time before letting her go so they could both exit the car. 

“Jay! It's so good to see you” Sansa watched as the petite blonde woman pulled Jaime into a fierce hug the moment he rounded the hood of the car. When she eventually released her son, Sansa had the chance to see Joanna Lannister for the first time. Like her son, she was golden and beautiful, so much so that she resembled the lovely Jane Bennet from Sansa’s favorite adaptation of ‘Pride & Prejudice’. 

Of course Joanna would be perfect like Jane. 

“And you must be Sansa!” Joanna declared a second before Sansa was wrapped into a tight embrace of her own. 

“I am, yes” Sansa leaned down to hug her back. 

“Oh you’re just lovely, so tall and beautiful” Joanna said to Jaime without releasing Sansa from the hug. “She’s beautiful.” 

“I very much agree” Jaime smiled indulgently at his Mother. 

“It’s nice to meet you” Sansa replied as the tall, imposing figure of Tywin Lannister appeared at the top of the stairs. Well, he was… he was nothing short of terrifying. 

“I cannot tell you how happy I am that Jaime has _finally_ brought someone home” Joanna continued as she released Sansa. 

“Even moreso that she isn’t a bimbo” Tywin quipped dryly as he descended the stairs to shake Jaime’s hand. There was a silent moment of Father-Son communication and Sansa felt something prickle at the back of her mind; another moment between a different Father-Son pairing, this one was one that she had written herself.

“I could very well be a bimbo” Sansa countered, extending her hand to the Great Lion. In for a penny, in for a pound, she might as well just be herself. “Sansa Stark.”

“I suppose we’ll know by the end of dinner, won’t we” Tywin’s lips twitched in amusement. “Tywin Lannister, it's a pleasure” he said as he took her hand in a brief but firm handshake. 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_“Barristan” the familiar voice sounded and he reluctantly turned to look into the cold, hard eyes of his Father. Of all the people in the realm, he was least looking forward to facing his Father after all that had transpired._

_“Father” Barristan briefly lowered his head in deference before meeting his Father’s disappointment head on. “You do not need to say it--”_

_“You do not know what I am going to say” Lionel protested, flexing the hand that rested on the hilt of the sword at his hip. "You could hardly fathom the contents of my mind."_

_“You are going to tell me that I have let you down” Barristan ventured. “That I have let down the Selmy name and let down your legacy. I know what I have done, I know the weight of it, and I will carry it with me for the rest of my days, Father. But I will not apologize” he continued. “I am not sorry for what I have done, I am only sorry that I was all but forced to do it.”_

_“Sometimes the Gods take our choices from us and force our hands” Lionel reasoned, stepping to Barristan’s side. The two men, both tall and golden, stared out over the city together. Barristan had never had a close, loving relationship with his Father--not after his Mother had died. But there had been a Knight’s understanding, a camaraderie that kept them civil. Now Barristan was no longer a knight and he was unsure of how to relate to his Father at all. "Sometimes they choose to test the metal of a man by placing them in a situation where they cannot win..." Lionel continued._

_“I am leaving at first light” Barristan interjected quietly. “I have been given a deadline to leave the City.”_

_“I know” Lionel nodded._

_“I will send word when I’ve found my place” Barristan promised. “But I cannot say when that will be,” he added and his Father nodded._

_“You have not let me down, Barristan” Lionel turned to face him, his hand leaving his sword to cup Barristan’s cheek. “If you had stood by and watched the city burn to the ground, then I would have been truly disappointed.”_

_“Father--”_

_“You took a vow to protect the realm” Lionel continued, thumb absently tracing his cheekbone before his hand fell away, back to his sword. “And protecting it from its ruler is the hardest thing to do. Sometimes doing the right thing means doing what others see as the ‘wrong’ thing.”_

_“Father, I…” he took a ragged breath, overcome with emotion. “Thank you.”_

_“You are my son, Barristan” Lionel said proudly. “You will always be my son, dragons be damned.”_

_“Do not let them hear you say as much” he said softly. “She is as mad as her Father.”_

_“It matters not, not now. I am leaving here soon myself” Lionel explained. “I am going home--to our home. I have been away too long” he gave a weak smile. “What use is an old knight anyway?”_

_“Then perhaps we’ll meet again someday” Barristan replied._

_“I look forward to it” Lionel extended his hand and Barristan took it, the two men sharing a moment of understanding that had been an entire lifetime coming. Soon the sun would set and Barristan would ride out of the city under a cloud of shame and dishonor, but knowing that his Father was not included in the group of those who spit on his name was enough for him to keep his head high._

_He was a Selmy, and whether history remembered it or not, they were a great, proud lineage._

“She’s lovely,” Joanna said softly, wrapping her arm around Jaime’s waist. He had just managed to sneak a few photos of Sansa, this time with her looking impossibly happy at the table, her fiery hair shining in the evening sunlight. He made a mental note to post it later, he just had to conjure up the perfect caption. 

“I agree” Jaime put his arm around his Mother’s shoulders. He remembered the first time he noticed that he was taller than his Mother; while Tyrion and Cersei had Joanna’s short, delicate frame, Jaime was all Tywin's imposing genetics. It had been the end of his Freshman year of high school and they were in the kitchen together, it wasn’t a special moment beyond any other weekend, but it was that day he turned to ask her a question and realized that he could look clear over her head. 

“And you love her” her Mother looked up at him with a bright smile. Did he love Sansa? The answer was obvious and had been staring him in the face for sometime. If he hadn’t known it before, he would have easily recognized it the first time that he had walked into the studio conference room to see her working with Stannis Baratheon. The surge of jealousy that had rocketed through his veins had nearly knocked him over, and in its wake was a bone-deep realization that he wanted--no, needed to have Sansa at his side forever. 

“I do,” Jaime admitted, knowing that his cheeks were surely a bright pink. “I never expected to find anyone like her, but now that I have, I fully intend to keep her.” 

“Good. You deserve the best, baby” his Mother beamed, “I like her, so does your Father, and I daresay that even Cersei likes her too” Joanna laughed, both of them looking to where Sansa and Cersei were deep in conversation. Upon their first introduction, Cersei had been hesitant--perhaps a bit cold, but as the evening wore on, he was glad to see his twin opening up and engaging Sansa in conversation. 

They were a lot alike when you stopped to think about it. They were both strong, intelligent, and quick-witted women who were at the top of their respectable trades; Sansa in writing and Cersei with couture bespoke fashion. It only made sense that they would be able to connect on a level that was more than just a woman meeting her boyfriend’s Sister or a woman meeting her Brother's girlfriend.

“Well now” Jaime chuckled as Tywin refreshed Cersei and Sansa’s glasses of wine before sitting with them at the table set up on the back veranda. Their table overlooked the gardens and gave them all a perfect view of the sunset. Tyrion joined them a moment later and Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle. “I suppose this means he’s decided that she isn’t a ‘bimbo’.” 

“As if a best-selling author could ever be a bimbo” his Mother rolled her eyes with a smile. “Come on” she nodded and they crossed to join them. Jaime took the chair beside Sansa, making sure to move it a bit closer before he sat, while his Mom chose to sit on Tywin’s thigh as she always did in relaxed gatherings. If there was something in this world that Tywin loved more than anything, it was Joanna, and he’d never made a secret of that. 

Sansa extended her wine glass to him and he gratefully took a sip before sliding his hand into hers. 

“You know” Sansa was watching his Father intently. “It’s truly remarkable.” 

“What is?” Jaime asked. 

“He really is perfect” Sansa nodded to Tywin. “Absolutely perfect.” 

“Of course I am” Tywin scoffed, a smug smile tugging at his lips. 

“Are you hitting on my Dad?” Jaime gaped as Cersei hid her laughter in her wineglass. Of course Cersei would find this amusing.

“He’s 'Lionel Selmy', Ditto” Sansa clarified. “He’s _perfect_.” 

“Oh” Jaime looked at his Father, assessing and mentally comparing him to the man that had formed Barristan Selmy into the man he was in _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_. Sharp nose, golden hair, hard glare, all he needed was some epic sideburns--- “Oh, he is.” 

“Tywin, have you ever ridden a horse?” Sansa asked. 

“I am an accomplished equestrian, my dear” Tywin replied smoothly. 

“In armor?” Sansa continued. 

“Oh my” his Mother fanned herself. “Ty in armor, I need to see this” she sighed dramatically, causing Tywin to pull her closer. 

“We’ve been trying for days to find the right 'Lionel',” Sansa leaned closer to Jaime. “Wouldn’t it be a lovely little easter egg to have your actual Father play your on-screen Father?” 

“I thought you were hitting on my Dad” Jaime teased and Sansa rolled her eyes. 

“Silly, Ditto. There’s only one Lannister for me,” Sansa countered, mischief in her eyes. 

“Oh?” he prompted.

“And it’s Cersei” Sansa nodded to his smirking twin and he sighed in exasperation. 

“Get over here, Stark” Jaime pulled her from her chair to sit across his lap, stealing her glass of wine in the process. 

“Hey, that’s mine” Sansa protested weakly, leaning against his chest.

“It's _ours_.”

“Oh look, they’re disgusting already” Tyrion scoffed, refilling everyone's glasses. 

“You’re just salty” Cersei argued. 

“Me?” 

“Yes” Cersei nodded at Tyrion. “You’re the PhD in Literature and Jaime’s the one who bags the hot writer.” 

“You know” Sansa paused. “I think you would love my editor, Tyrion.” 

“Oh really?” Tyrion now looked thoroughly intrigued. 

“Yes, but you have to be nice or I won’t introduce you” she quipped and Tyrion’s look of surprise had Cersei laughing in earnest. Jaime held Sansa tight, enjoying the merriment of his family around it. He had expected his family to like Sansa, what’s not to like? But he hadn’t expected it to be this easy...

This effortless.

As he watched, his Mother leaned closer to whisper into his Father’s ear. Tywin’s answering chuckle had Jaime very curious as to what she had said, but he only received a cryptic smile from them in explanation. Guess he’d just have to accept that...

“Stark,” Jaime whispered and Sansa rolled to face him across the pillow. After they’d gotten back to their oceanside apartment--because really, he lived here now too, they’d taken a warm, lazy shower together, their washing punctuated with deep kisses and lingering touches. When the water had finally turned cold, they’d emerged and collapsed onto the king sized bed.

For Jaime, however, sleep didn’t come easily. His mind was still replaying the conversation he’d had with his Mother, the conversation where he was hit with the 16-ton realization that he _loved_ Sansa. Such heavy knowledge couldn’t be kept to himself, not for long anyway.

“Hmm?” she gave a sleepy smile as he tucked an errant curl behind her ear. 

“You know, right?” 

“Know?” she frowned in confusion. 

“That I love you” he felt his stomach clench as the words passed his lips, knowing that there was no going back from this moment. It was true, regardless of what she said in response, he had fallen irrevocably in love with Sansa Stark and he needed her to know.

Whatever response he had prepared himself for, however he was greatly ashamed to admit that he didn’t expect the most obvious one…

“Ditto, Ditto” she scooted closer, wrapping an arm and leg over him to snuggle against his chest. Her head was now cushioned on one of his arms, so he allowed the other to wrap around her in return, fingers carding into her hair as he claimed her mouth.

Jaime was over the moon, happier than he could ever remember being before. Was there any feeling greater than loving and being loved in return? No, he didn’t think so. 

A gentle hand at his shoulder had him rolling to his back, Sansa moving astride him in a deft movement. He stared up at her in wonder, admiring every bare dip and curve. The curtains facing the ocean were open and the room was illuminated by the moonlit tide, which meant Sansa’s pale skin and fiery hair were glowing in the soft light. 

“You’re gorgeous” he said softly, trailing his hands over every inch of her that he could reach. “Absolutely gorgeous.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Ditto” she pushed her hair from her face, smiling down at him. Her hands brushed across his chest, pausing only briefly before she wrapped slender fingers around the length of his cock. 

“Fuck---” 

“Mmm, all mine” she purred as she stroked, rubbing him against her soaked folds with a dangerous smile. He took a moment to silently thank the Gods that upon her arrival in the South, Sansa had visited a doctor to start a birth control regimen. There hadn’t been much need to discuss it, they were both absolutely committed to each other, but once they’d agreed that they’d like to do away with condoms, Sansa had started taking the pill. Not that he didn't want to watch Sansa carry their children, they just had a while to go before they tackled that hurdle...

Still, Jaime was eternally grateful for that tiny pill because nothing felt as amazing as Sansa’s cunt did when it was wrapped tightly around his cock. 

“Stark---” he choked on his words as she twisted her wrist on the up-stroke, holding him tightly to align the head of him with her core. “Fuck” he groaned when she sank onto him until he’d bottomed out, her head lolling back enough to have the ends of her hair tickling his thighs. 

For now, he could only sit back and admire that way her lithe form rocked and ground against him, taking her pleasure without care. His hands had a mind of their own, teasing and cupping her breasts until she was whimpering, then holding tightly to her hips as she rode his cock, chasing her own peak with abandon. His hips rose to meet hers, unwilling to be parted with her for longer than necessary and soon electricity was buzzing in their shared bedroom.

He watched it build, felt her body tremble and clench as she came, her breathing hitched, and her spine went boneless as pleasure consumed her. In that instant, he rolled her to her back and settled into the cradle of her body, holding himself on his elbows above her while he rocked deep within her. 

“Jaime…” 

“Beautiful” he encouraged, setting a slow and steady rhythm. "So beautiful." 

“So good” she wrapped her long legs around him, making him a willing prisoner in her embrace. Jaime lowered his forehead to hers, a hand holding tightly to her thigh to hold it high against his side as he moved. Sansa was beyond soaked, her body holding his like it was created for that purpose, clenching each time he surged as deeply as he could. 

“I love you” he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of his mouth over and over as he moved. 

“Yes!” Sansa sobbed beneath him, her hands running up his spine, nails surely leaving welts in their wake. “Jaime, love--please…” she pleaded but he held pace, slowly making love to her until they were both mad from it. When she screamed his name, coming in long rhythmic pulses, he couldn’t hold back any longer and he pushed deep, pouring into her with a feral growl. He forced his eyes to stay open, locked on her own vibrant blue eyes as they fell over the edge. 

There, in her gaze he could see the love, the affection between them reflected back at him. In all his years on this earth, he’d never felt anything close to what he did in this moment. 

“Wow” she sighed, laughing breathlessly as she trembled in his arms. 

“‘Wow’ is right” he rolled to her side, pulling her close to bury his face in her fragrant hair. 

“I love you” she whispered, clinging to his frame. 

“I love you too” he replied, feeling every fiber of his being relax. It didn’t take long, not now that they were sated, sweaty and exhausted, soon they succumbed to sleep, wrapped tightly in each others’ arms with the knowledge that they would be waking up together.


	14. Part 14: Match Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright--here we go! Back into the wonderful world of 'Adaptation'! :) This story has been so lovely and fun to write, I just low how fluffy it is! But even more than that, I love how many of you are reading and commenting, letting me know that it makes you smile too! 
> 
> This chapter is a little smutty, a little funny, a little angsty and we see our leads take things to a new level. THANK YOU for reading! Stay safe! Not beta'd, not a writer, etc.
> 
> Reminder that you can find picsets, etc on my tumblr @the-red-wulf! Come join the fun! Enjoy, thank you, and stay safe! 
> 
> Also, I wanted to mention that if you're on discord, feel free to come and join the new [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)! I have had phenom help and support getting this server going, and I can't wait to talk with you there! There might even be exciting new challenges and stories on the horizon! (direct link; https://discord.gg/bsRauMj )!

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaime called out as he closed and locked the front door. 

“Hi ‘Home’, I’m Sansa!” she yelled back with a chuckle, setting the lid back on the pasta sauce and turning the temperature to ‘low’. She had been at her desk all day and when the moment came that _finally_ she typed the _final_ words, she’d had the sudden urge to celebrate with a nice dinner. 

She quickly sent the draft to Shae, complete with her usual snarky message, and wandered to the kitchen. She knew that today Jaime had a series of interviews and a recording for some talk show she couldn’t remember the name of--she would have to make a point of watching it when it aired. So it was safe to assume that he would be completely exhausted from dealing with people to be of much help in the kitchen. Though, in all honesty he was more distracting than helpful. 

_Preci--_ HUSH!

She was admittedly surprised at how much work went into being a movie star, both on the set and off. She hadn’t put much thought into it really, her life had only recently changed to accommodate more of her celebrity status, and she wondered how Jaime had managed to handle it so well all these years. Jaime had all but officially moved in at this point--his clothes were beside hers, family photographs hung beside hers, his shoes were by the front door, and there really wasn’t any question that he would be sleeping beside her at night. She didn’t mind a single bit--and the sex demon that now constantly paced rabidly in the back of her mind didn’t mind either. 

_Our Precious._

Hush you.

“I hate the press--remind me again why I do this?” Jaime explained, pulling her into his arms the moment he entered the kitchen. She leaned into his embrace kissing the tip of his nose. 

“Because you love the attention” she teased, stepping back until she was trapped between the kitchen counter and Jaime.

“Of course, I _am_ Westeros’ most handsome man” he smirked, taking the unspoken invitation and lifting her to sit on the kitchen counter. He moved into the cradle of her legs, allowing her to wrap them around her. 

“I guess you’re alright” she nearly sighed aloud as his hands traced her bare thighs, stopping just short of the hem of her sundress. That was one good thing about the South, she could wear light, frilly sundresses every day, and Jaime loved it when she wore dresses--

 _We needs him_.

Shut up! 

“Dinner smells good, I could smell it from the door. You were up late, I figured you’d be too tired to cook after your long day.”

“Inspiration struck, I had to answer the call of my muse” Sansa said, idly working the buttons of his dress shirt free. “Besides, I finished it.” 

“Finished?” his eyes went wide in surprise. 

“Finished. Book one done, draft sent” she confirmed. “So, we’re celebrating.”

“Absolutely” he beamed. “My beautiful, smart, sexy woman.” 

“Pure genius if I say so myself” she smirked, parting the fabric of his shirt to run her hands over his chest.

“Sauce simmering?”

“Mmhmm” she hummed. “Twenty minutes.”

“Perfect” his fingers wandered under her skirt, stopping short when he realized that she was bare underneath. “Well now…” 

“Oops” she helped him from his shirt, letting it fall to the kitchen floor. 

“Have I ever told you” his fingers brushed across her folds. “How much I love you in dresses?” 

“No, never” she smirked. 

“Well I do” he pushed her skirt to her hips, baring her from the waist down. “But my favorite Sansa is ‘naked Sansa’. Lean back” he instructed and she reluctantly moved her hands from their exploration of his shoulders to the counter behind her as he scooted her ass to the edge of the granite. Once she was reclined, Jaime crouched just enough to nuzzle her bare folds. 

“Ditto--” 

“Just an appetizer” he whispered against her most sensitive flesh before closing the distance to devour her. A gasp then a series of deliciously filthy words poured from her mouth before she could stop them, Jaime’s tongue and lips sending dragon’s fire through her blood. Balancing on one hand, she slid the other into his golden hair, teasing the locks as he worked.

Like the man himself, Jaime’s tongue was fucking magical, and it wasn’t long until the kitchen was filled with her pleas and sobs. 

“I’m--oh, fuck” she choked out as he sucked hard on her clit, sending her over the edge into oblivion. She barely registered the rattle of his belt and only managed to refocus her eyes as he stepped back between her legs with a smug smile playing at his lips. 

She wasted no time in reaching between them, wrapping her hand around his proud cock. His sharp hiss drove her on, stroking him as she guided him to where she wanted him most. 

_Needs him!_

Shut up!

“Fuck” Jaime groaned as he sank into her, his forehead resting against hers as he roughly exhaled. She wound her legs around him, holding him deep within her and they paused, sharing that silent, reverent moment of finally being joined. 

“There is nothing,” Jaime whispered. “Nothing in this world that is as incredible as this. As you.” 

“As us” Sansa whimpered the correction as he rocked against her. She was soaked, hot, and tight, her body holding his light a velvet vise. He wasn’t lying, there was nothing in the world that could compare to Sansa, to making love to her. 

He rocked slowly, a steady rhythm that was a mixture of electric sensation and breathless whimpers. Her legs held him prisoner while his cock held her pinned, hands and lips lazily exploring each other. There was no hurry, no rush--only the bone-deep comfort of coming home to the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, the one you wanted to come home to every day. 

“Jaime” Sansa whimpered, her back arching against him. 

“I know” he whispered, taking her lips with his own. And he did know. Even if his parents had hated her. If his siblings had hated her. Sansa was _it_ and there was no going back. 

“My precious Jaime.”

Carding his hands into her hair, he held her close as he devoured her mouth just as he had her cunt only a few moments ago. Their deep, languid kisses and soft sighs had them lost to a tidal wave of passion, lost in each other as he moved in slow, easy strokes. Time was lost---no, time had no bearing while they took part in this ancient dance. 

He moved a hand from her hair to her shoulder, slipping the strap of her sundress to the side and down her arm to allow her breast to fall free of the constricting fabric. It still amazed him, how porcelain and soft her skin was, he had never seen anything like it. 

“Beautiful” he praised, he had never seen anything like the way her skin flushed when she was aroused, or the way her sternum and collarbones went a soft mottled red when she came. 

“Oh Gods” Sansa gasped as he cupped her breast, gently rolling the jeweled peak between his thumb and forefinger. “Please…” her head lolled back, baring her throat and he didn’t hesitate to pepper the bared flesh with soft kisses. 

“Absolutely beautiful” he whispered against her skin, her answering tremble rolling through them both. “That’s it,” he encouraged, sliding firm and deep before repeating the action. Her spine bowed, voice broke and he watched her come apart in his arms. Never in the history of the world, had a man ever felt more powerful than he did as she sobbed out her pleasure. He felt her body clench rhythmically around his and he was powerless to stop his own climax and he spilled into her in long, body-shaking bursts. 

“Fuck” she whispered, nuzzling his cheek. 

“Just an appetizer” he couldn’t help but tease, wrapping his arms around her back and shoulders. 

“My favorite kind of appetizer.”

“Mine too.” 

“Aside from mozzarella sticks.”

“Ditto.”

“For the record, Ditto” she kissed his chin. “You are the most handsome man in Westeros.” 

“Oh, I know” he laughed at her exasperation in the same moment that the oven timer went off. “Just in time for dinner.” 

“Just in time” she repeated. “Be a good man and turn the pasta burner to ‘high’ while I clean myself up?” 

“Of course” he carefully withdrew from her core, mindful of the mess, and helped her from the counter. She quickly shuffled off to the washroom, adjusting her dress straps as she walked. Jaime had an easier job, just lifting and buckling his pants in place before he adjusted the stove buttons. 

He had wiped down the counter, grabbed his button down pulled it on without buttoning it on when Sansa reappeared. He watched her flutter back into the kitchen, stirring the sauce with a contented smile on her face. 

“I love you,” he said softly and she set the spoon aside before facing him. 

“I know” she smirked. “I love you too” she continued, speaking the words that never ceased to make his heart race. He’d just taken her a moment ago, but already he could feel the heat rising in his blood. 

“As long as you know” he moved closer, placing a kiss to the crown of her hair. 

“I do” she smiled up at him. “Now help me finish dinner, I've worked up an appetite.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“I think” Sansa leaned closer to nuzzle his cheek. “That we should take this relationship to the next level.” They had just finished an incredibly filling meal and he was preparing to take a brief nap before stripping her sundress away for a second helping of his favorite ‘appetizer’.

“Next level?” he asked, clearly confused by her words. To his surprise he didn’t feel alarmed at the suggestion, just intrigued. Good to know, he mentally filed that gem away for later.

“Yeah, come on” she took his hand, leading him from the room. He held snugly to her slender fingers, following her path through the house and--unexpectedly, to her office. 

“San?” he asked as she opened her laptop, pressing a few keys with the hand not holding to his. 

“Ditto” Sansa turned to face him, smiling softly. “We both have the day off tomorrow, maybe we can spend it together, yeah?” 

“Yeah, of course” he dumbly nodded as she released his hand and motioned to her desk chair. She strode from the room, leaving him in her dimly lit office. 

Alone. 

With her laptop.

Alone.

With her biggest secret.

He took a deep, heaving breath and roughly exhaled as he ran a hand through his hair. Before him was the ‘top secret’ work she’d been slaving over since before he’d met her, one that she had been pouring her heart into, and she had just clearly invited him to read it. He took a step closer--then two, and then he was sitting in her chair, staring at the open word document. 

“ _Courant Hounds and Pale Sable_ ,” he whispered, staring at the title page. “ _'The Kingslayer Series’ Book 4_.” His hand trembled as he reached for the mouse, delving into a world he never expected to be invited into.

When Jaime finally leaned back in the chair, the sun was just peeking up over the ocean, casting the office in a golden glow. His hand trembled a bit with emotion and exhaustion as he pushed his hair from his face. 

“Fuck” he whispered, taking a deep breath. Several more seconds passed before he pushed to his feet and silently padded up the stairs to the master bedroom. It was dark save for the faint light from beyond the curtains, which was just enough to illuminate Sansa’s sleeping form. Her rich auburn hair was spread across the pillows--his pillow actually, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she slept soundly on her side.

He watched her for a few moments before shucking his slacks and shirt, leaving them on the floor to deal with tomorrow. Standing beside the bed he looked down at her expressionless face and parted lips, drinking in every detail of her. 

She was beautiful, anyone with eyes could tell you that. 

She was kind, caring, and compassionate. She would do anything for her loved ones, he’d learned that as she let him into her world. 

But none of these things were her greatest quality--not in his opinion. To him, the greatest little puzzle piece in the ‘Sansa Stark Masterpiece’ was her mind. Intelligence and imagination like hers were rare, rarer still that she could translate those into a universe that truly humbled him. He knew now how big that _‘The Kingslayer Saga’ Universe_ was going to be, or he had a better understanding at least, and he couldn’t want to be a part of it. 

With careful movements, he slid into bed beside her, gently maneuvering her back to his front so he could wrap himself around her. 

“Mm, Ditto” she muttered and he kissed the crown of her hair. 

“I love you...so fucking much” he whispered his reply, but he could by her breathing that she had already lapsed back into slumber. That’s alright, he smiled as he closed his eyes. He’d remind her in the morning.

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_Barristan could hardly believe how much his life had changed in the span of a few sennights. Far from the lush opulence found in the Royal Palace, he was now sitting in the home of Mance Rayder, the Free Folk King--for lacking a better term. Gone was cold etiquette and propriety, and here was genuine warmth, camaraderie and friendship. To his and The Hound’s great surprise, the Free Folk had welcomed them with open arms and tables upon tables of food and drink. The two former knights had been on edge but eventually relaxed, several exchanged looks had them agreeing that they were not likely to be killed in cold blood, so they did their best to fit in._

_Barristan had not expected a place so willing to accept a Kingslayer into its midst, especially one that put him across from another King altogether. However long they stayed here, he felt certain that they had made lifelong allies. As the night carried on, so did Mance, telling bawdy stories of war and bedroom conquests--some of which Barristan had never wanted to hear let alone imagine._

_When finally there came a break in conversation, Barristan excused himself and strode from the wooden hut and out into the cold night air. The sun had not yet set but most of the Free Folk had retired to their tents and huts to bed down for the night, leaving the expanse of foothills silent as the dead. Footsteps approached behind him and he knew instinctively who they belonged to. Both men looked to the horizon, breaths dancing on the air around them. Silence hung between them for several moments before the spell broke._

_“Well” The Hound’s deep voice rumbled. “Think he really fucked a bear?”_

_Barristan’s laughter could be heard all across the encampment._

“I’m proud of you” Sansa smirked at her younger Sister. The pair had taken up residence at a shaded table at one of Sansa’s new favorite cafe’s, ‘Lommy's’. While Jaime had left early for another round of television recordings and photo shoots, Sansa had slept in a bit before picking up Arya from the airport. That is to say, Cley drove and Sansa sat patiently in the back. Cley had since dropped them in the main downtown area to shop and relax while he returned to drive Jaime to his remaining interviews before picking them up in a few hours or so. 

“What’s not to be proud of” Arya scoffed in return. “But why this time?” 

“You’ve been here twenty minutes and you haven’t asked about Asha Greyjoy,” Sansa explained. 

“I was waiting for when I see Potato tonight,” Arya smirked. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.”

“Good to know” Sansa smiled. 

“And you” Arya leaned closer. “You in love yet?” 

“That’s such a silly….” Sansa shook her head. “Yes, if you must know.” 

“It's a good look on you” Arya sipped her mimosa, sliding her sunglasses down her nose to waggle her eyebrows. “Potato giving you the---” 

“Don’t” Sansa burst out laughing, shaking her head. She had missed Arya’s antics in the time they’d been apart. Her Sister always knew how to make her laugh--and blush, and she was glad that she could take the time to spend a sennight in the South with her. 

“Did you let him read it?” Arya’s tone was suddenly serious, both of them leaning back as their lunches arrived. They thanked the waitress and Sansa waited until they were alone once more before answering. 

“I did,” Sansa admitted. 

“Wow.” 

“What?” 

“You _are_ in love--with Jaime fucking Lannister!” Arya explained before shoving a rather large bite of cheeseburger into her mouth. 

“I am, and I really wanted to share that part of my life with him,” Sansa replied. A smile crossed her lips as she thought back on her conversation with Jaime regarding the newest _Kingslayer_ novel. He had been thoroughly blown away and she could see the genuine excitement for the upcoming expanded universe in his eyes. They had spent most of the day after he'd read it in their bed, occasionally venturing to the kitchen for sustenance before snuggling back together. That had been several days ago, for which she was grateful because now that Arya was in town they wouldn't have much chance for 'naked dinners'.

“More so than him actually _being_ Barristan Selmy?” Arya rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean” Sansa poked at her salad, moving a slice of chicken to the side. “I think he loved it--like really loved it. He read it in one sitting.” 

“Well, it was good,” Arya reasoned, talking over the lump of food in her mouth. “You said Sandor Clegane is playing The Hound, right?” she asked and Sansa nodded as she chewed her own lunch. “He’ll be good, I think he has the range.” 

“Oh, why thank you” Sansa smirked. 

“Just saying!” Arya playful tossed a french fry at her, landing it in the center of Sansa’s salad with a ‘plop’.

“It’s mine now” Sansa promptly speared it with her fork and popped it into her mouth with a smug smile. From there they fell back into their easy conversation, catching up on the time together that they’d missed and brainstorming what trouble they could get up to while Arya was in town. Before they knew it, they had finished their lunches and, on impulse, Sansa decided to check her phone before they departed. 

‘1 New Photo Tag’ she couldn’t help but smile at the notification. Clicking the Instagram app, she opened it up to see that Jaime had posted a new photo, this time it was one with him standing outside with a huge crowd of fans behind him, and Sandor Clegane at his side. But what was shocking to her was the fact that these weren’t ‘Captain Westeros’ fans, no, nearly every single one of them was wearing or holding _‘Kingslayer Saga’_ merchandise.

“Holy fuck” Sansa whispered the rare curse, immediately drawing Arya’s attention. 

“What?” Arya slid her chair closer to Sansa and they both looked over the image. Sandor and Jaime, along with the crowd, were facing Jaime’s front-facing camera, and in between the two larger-than-life actors was a young fan holding up a piece of fan art depicting Barristan (who bore a striking resemblance to Jaime, of course) and Jonquil, tears in her eyes and the largest smile she’d ever seen. "Holy fuck" Arya echoed Sansa's earlier statement.

And the caption, of course was perfect; ‘ _Sending love to @AlayneStone-- Wish you were here! #DoItForEdd #Kingslayer #SelmyandtheHound #butIreallydowishyouwerehere_ ’. 

“Wow” Sansa felt her own emotions clog her throat. This was all so overwhelming, so...huge...

“That’s really cool,” Arya admitted, finishing her last mimosa in one gulp. “Those two are going to be the most famous potatoes in the world.” 

“I don’t know if I am ready for this--really ready, Ya-ya” Sansa admitted softly, a tremor in her voice. 

“What do you mean?” Arya frowned. 

“This is already bigger--way bigger than I thought it was going to be, and I---” 

“San, calm down, breathe” Arya cutting off her words and taking her hands in her own. “This is my time to tell you that you’re being a ninny. You remember your first big signing? Back home, when the second book was released? I know you were nervous, hell it was a big deal, and you almost puked on your new shoes” Arya chuckled at that memory. “You weren’t nervous about the people, you were nervous that no one would even bother to show up. I tried to tell you, to warn you, but do you remember what happened?” 

“Yeah” Sansa nodded. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Line around the block, the cops and fire marshall showed up--total chaos” Arya said proudly. “You brought the house down, _YOU_! Alayne fucking Stone!” 

“Ya-ya--” 

“This is going to be huge, there is no way around it” Arya continued. “But you’ve got this, absolutely got this” she paused. “And, you’ve got Jaime to do it with you, every step of the way...I mean, and me, but I am just here for Asha, so we’re clear” her joke managed to break the tension and Sansa let out a watery laugh. 

“Crystal clear” she agreed. 

“Now let’s go shopping,” Arya declared. “You can buy me an early birthday present with all that movie money of yours.” 

“Deal,” Sansa said, grabbing her purse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	15. Part 15: Premiere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now, how about a spooky month non-spooky update!? :) It has been a while since we've visited our favorite sweet-as-sugar couple, so let's see what they're up to! A heads up, there is a bit of a time jump in this one, should be easy to understand but I wanted to warn you!
> 
> AND A NEW PICSET which is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/631819917242564608/adaptation-au-modern-in-which-sansas-life/)!!!
> 
> Also, if you're on discord, feel free to come and join the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)! It is a positive multi-shipper community filled with great people and fantastic conversation! I can't wait to talk with you there! There might even be exciting new challenges and stories on the horizon!
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is something I do for fun. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors--they're all my own. :D :P Thank you for reading!

“But is all of this really necessary?” Sansa sighed, looking over the ‘crew’ that had spilled into the penthouse hotel room. Jaime had said that they were coming, that there was someone for makeup, another for hair, and then two to deal with wardrobe for both her and Jaime. But it was...overwhelming. 

They had checked into ‘The Grand Hotel’ in downtown early this morning. Having the penthouse gave them both a place to prepare for the evening and a way to keep visitors from having access to their private residences. Of course, Jaime and Sansa had spent the morning hiding away from the world, enjoying the master bedroom of the suite before the entire world looked on over the premiere of _’Captain Westeros’_. While it had been a tight race, the visual effects for the film had taken ages, they were able to meet the pre-Thanksgiving release date. 

“Trust me, it is” Jamie scoffed from where he was sitting on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table. “This is your first premiere, I refuse to let even a single of those shit gossip publications tear apart my woman. I’ve worked with the ‘Sand Snakes’ exclusively for three years, I trust them. 

“Sand snakes?” Sansa frowned, looking over at the four women who were debating something about pocket squares in the penthouse’s spacious dining room. 

“Oberyn Martell’s daughters” Jaime explained, the name obviously pulling the attention of the tallest of the women. She supposed it made sense enough, looking closer to see the similarities in all of the women. Most were tall, slender, with golden skin and the dark hair of their father, eyes sparking with mischief; one however was petite, golden of hair and didn’t look as if she belonged upon first glance. Sansa had not yet met Oberyn Martell in person, but he’d long been the romantic leading man in Hollywood. His exploits on screen far exceeded by those off screen. 

“Same father, different mothers” she stepped closer to Sansa, offering her hand. “Obara Sand, forgive us for bursting in, Jaime is used to it by now.” 

“Of course” Sansa shook her hand

“Father wanted us to follow in his footsteps, but really we’re behind the scenes girls” another spoke and Obara laughed. 

“That is Tyene, our golden beauty” she motioned to the blonde woman who had just spoken. Sansa was momentarily distracted by Tyene’s bright blue eyes--her Mother must have been stunning. They hardly looked real. “She will be handling your makeup. Obella there,” she motioned to the woman hanging a dozen different dresses and tuxedos around the room. “She will dress you right, never steer you wrong.” 

“That sounds wonderful” Sansa laughed nervously. “And you?” 

“Me?” Obara’s smirk was absolutely Oberyn Martell’s. “I can’t wait to get my hands on that natural red hair of yours” she paused and leaned closer. “ _It is_ natural, right?” she stage whispered. 

“Obara” Jaime groaned, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh hush, damned fool blond man” she waved her hand at him, the gesture oddly putting Sansa at ease. The women, while an odd group, seemed right at home around the chaos of premiers and hadn’t shown any sign of fangirling over Jaime’s presence. It was nice to see, to be treated as normal--which is something that had been happening less and less as their time in King’s Landing stretched on. 

In fact, in the six moons since she’d arrived the city had grown more and more oppressive. More stifling. When the media realized that her relationship with Jaime was no ‘fly by night’ affair, they began to follow them everywhere, desperate for something juicy. They photographed them going to dinner, or even shopping. They’d even formed a permanent ‘camp’ outside of the studio, hoping to catch them as they arrived and departed each day.

It had gotten so bad that Arya had left to return home only a few sennights after her arrival. The two Sisters had been shopping when a few selfies with fans turned into a mob of paparazzi and Arya having to show Sansa into a passing taxi to escape. Arya left after that incident with a promise to return soon (once she prepared, which Sansa had no idea what that meant), leaving Sansa feeling more isolated than ever. 

She had Jaime, however, and with Jaime came Tormund and Sandor who could always make her laugh, no matter how grim the world seemed. Stannis Baratheon had also become an unexpected friend, which made sense given their long working hours together. He was a strong, calming presence in a chaotic world that she didn’t fully understand just yet, she was grateful to have him helping her through. 

_‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ film adaptation had become an internet sensation, everyone frothing at the mouth for any and all information they could get. Stannis and Sansa had been working tirelessly to make sure that everything was perfect. They’d finished the script, found their locations, and this past moon had been hammering out the costume designs before sending them into production. It was...incredible. To Jaime it all seemed fairly routine, especially having come off of filming the epic _’Captain Westeros’_ , but for Sansa it was new and exciting. Seeing her brain child come to life was more than she ever could have hoped for. 

She reminded herself of that over the next several hours as she was brushed, styled, slathered in makeup, and shoved into a dress that seemed like a feat of architecture on its own. Before she knew it, she was standing as steadily as possible on sky-high designer heels while the Sand Snakes examined their work. 

“I was banking on her shoulders, but now that I know she has such fantastic hips, I know exactly how to dress her next time” Obella muttered to herself. 

“I dare anyone in the world to find fault with our work” Obara nodded proudly. 

“What about Jaime?” Sansa asked, looking to the master bedroom where he’d been ushered to dress as soon as his hair was done. 

“Please, that man could put on a tux in his sleep at this point” Dorea scoffed, making a very unladylike sound. “Besides, no one will be looking at him with you there at his side.”

“Now then, remember what we told you,” Obara instructed. “Head up, tongue on the roof of your mouth and no matter what anyone says, smile.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“They’re sharks, all of them. Never trust anyone with a camera. They will shout anything they can think of to get your attention,” Obara explained.

“Or worse, a reaction” Tyene grimaced. 

“Oh” Sansa nodded. “Alright, noted.” 

“You’ll be the envy of the world” Obara adjusted Sansa’s hair over her shoulder. “When the glitz and glamour of the evening is over, you’ll be going home to Jaime’s bed. Just remind yourself of that.” 

“I…” Sansa almost burst out laughing. “Thanks?” 

“And perhaps one day you will grant us the honor of styling you for your wedding” Obara crossed her arms in smug satisfaction. Well, these Sand Snakes certainly weren’t shy.

“Obara” Jaime sighed once more, this time from where he stood in the bedroom doorway. Sansa turned to face him, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of Jaime-fucking-Lannister in a crisp black tuxedo that fit him like a glove. 

“Oh” Sansa whispered to herself. She barely noticed as the Sand Snakes gathered their sorcery-packed-bags and excused themselves from the room, and she daresay that Jaime didn’t much notice either since his eyes were locked on her. The sound of the room’s door clicking shut brought her back to the present, breaking the spell. 

"Jaime..."

“You look” Jaime stepped to her side, taking her hands to guide her close. With the height of the heels she wore, it closed the height difference between them and she fitted against him easily. “You look incredible. You will be the most beautiful woman there, by far.”

“More than Margaery Tyrell?” Sansa teased, mentioning the _’Captain Westeros’_ co-star that she knew drove Jaime insane. He had, on more than one occasion, vented his frustration about the fame-hungry brunette who was doing all that she could to attach her name to his in the effort of climbing the ladder. Fortunately her role in the movie had been only slightly-larger than minor, and her character lived in the ‘city’, allowing Sansa to avoid meeting her entirely while the others were filmed in the North.

“Don’t get me started” he rolled his eyes. 

“You look very handsome, Ditto” she lay a hand over his heart. “Are you ready to face the madness?” 

“Absolutely” Jaime leaned closer to steal a kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, _’Captain Westeros’_ ,” she laughed at his exasperation. “Now let's go so I can admire you in your cape.” 

“ _Again_ ” his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Because I know you already ‘admired’ it on set.” 

“Please, don’t flatter yourself. I was admiring Clegane” she teased, patting his chest with a smile. She gave him another brief kiss, mindful of her lipstick (even though Tyene had sworn it was smudge proof) and once she’d grabbed her clutch purse, Jaime banded an around her waist and escorted her to the door. 

Everything that Sansa had been told--warned about the Red Carpet was true, and then some. It was chaos. Well-organized and coordinated, but chaos nonetheless. From the moment Jaime had helped her from the limousine, they had been the center of focus. Photographers and reporters alike were shouting at them, snapping photograph after photograph of their journey down the plush walkway.

Jaime stuck close to her side, either his hand in hers or arm around her waist to keep her close, for which she was grateful. They stopped several times to speak with correspondents with several major entertainment channels, all of them inquiring rather boldly about their relationship and the progress of _‘The Kingslayer Saga’_ films. Years of proper etiquette and instruction from her Mother enabled Sansa to take it all in stride and remain articulate. If barely.

They were parted briefly when a correspondent from a literary publication stopped her to ask several questions regarding her writing process, the novels' success, and the upcoming film adaptations. It was lovely to speak about the novels rather than the upcoming films, even if they were searching for spoilers. Still, the entire interview she knew that Jaime was standing a few feet to her side, there to support her at a seconds notice should she need him.

Everything seemed to be going well until they reached the end of the Red Carpet where other stars from the film were gathered. Sansa recognized Margaery Tyrell immediately, the desperation emanating off of her and her barely-there gown could have reached the North. So this was the hopeful starlet that would do anything for her career, Sansa mused. The hungry look in Margaery’s eyes as she looked at Jaime put Sansa on edge, but her smile remained in place. 

Obara would be proud. 

“Sansa, good to see you” Sandor Clegane’s large form stepped closer to greet her and she went on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in return. “Surviving?” he whispered in her ear before they pulled back. 

“Yeah, I think so” she smiled, but it nearly fell when Jaime was wrenched from her side with almost enough force to knock her clutch loose. She looked quickly to see Margaery had pulled Jaime in close, posing at his side and doing her best to look sultry. 

She was not succeeding. 

_‘Silly little harlotsies’_ Sansa's inner voice hissed, though she kept her features schooled. Obara would be _very_ proud.

“Buggering twat” Sandor whispered just loud enough that Sansa could hear him, and she almost burst out laughing. 

“I am tempted to leave him to the shark,” Sansa looked on. 

“I’ll just steal you away while he's not looking” Sandor offered his arm with a crooked smile and she gratefully took it. Standing beside Sandor, rather than wandering the carpet or standing alone, she felt a little less awkward and a little more at ease without Jaime there to anchor her. The action, however, much had drawn the attention of the photographers--whether they were surprised at her friendly exchange with the notorious Hollywood villain or by the scandal of Jaime’s date on the arm of another, she did not know. 

Whatever it was, it created a much unwanted frenzy. 

“Is it always like this?” Sansa asked, looking to Sandor for guidance. 

“Aye,” he replied gruffly. “Though, maybe they’re all hoping to catch a scandal in the making.” 

“Scandal?” she smirked. 

“If I steal you away from Lannister” Sandor elaborated.

“Not a chance, Clegane” Jaime interrupted their conversation with a smug smile. Him and Sandor exchanged a quick handshake of greeting. “You can deal with Tyrell, I’ll be taking my date back now.” 

“I don't know, maybe she wants to stay with me” Sandor chuckled as Sansa slipped her hand back into Jaime’s. 

“Sorry about her” Jaime ignored Sandor’s jest, whispering to Sansa. “If I were to shove her away, it wouldn’t look too good, yeah?” 

“What if _I_ shove her away?” Sansa quipped as Sandor moved to the center beside Margaery, taking a bit of the attention away from them. 

“I have a better idea” Jaime pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist as he lowered his lips to hers. The cacophony of the press faded away, as the world usually did when she was in Jaime’s arms. The kiss was brief, but affectionate, leaving her flushed and a little breathless. “I love you, Stark” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“Good” she smirked, laughing at his expression. “I love you too, Ditto. But if she grabs you again, I will throw down. Evening gown or not.” 

“I can’t wait,” Jaime laughed. 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_The first time he laid eyes on Lady Jonquil of House Darke, he could hardly believe that she was real. She could have been The Maiden or an Angel for all her ethereal beauty. She stood tall, fiery and brave as her Princess flirted and mingled with the gathered partygoers. While most would have written her off or brushed her aside as the unknown daughter of an unknown house, Barristan had been unable to take his eyes off of her._

_With a nod to his Father, Barristan made his way through the Great Hall towards her. Like a moth to a flame, he could not resist taking that path that led directly to her._

_“My Lady” he bowed once he had reached her, his words drawing the attention of Princess Daenerys who stood a few feet away. “Ser Barristan Selmy” at your service._

_“Ser Selmy” she sank into a perfect curtsey. “What an honor to meet such a revered and infamous Knight at my first feast.”_

_“It is I who am honored” he extended his gloved hand. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”_

_“I am Jonquil, Ser Selmy” she replied, slipping her hand into his. Her fingers were so slender and delicate, unlike his own. “Of House Darke.”_

_“My Lady Jonquil” he bowed over her hand. “If I may be as bold to say that you are the loveliest---”_

_“Ser Selmy” his heart sank as the Princess approached. "What a surprise to see you acting so...forward." He did not miss how Jonquil’s hand was pulled quickly from his, nor that she stepped back and curled into herself at the arrival of Daenerys. It made his stomach turn in fear and disgust, that a woman as lovely as Jonquil should feel inferior beside another. There was a history here, one he knew nothing of but could feel it's cold hatred all the same. They say that the temper of Targaryen burned hot as dragon’s fire, but he couldn’t help but feel that Princess Targaryen’s true fury lay in the bitter cold of ice._

“‘Wedding Bells?’,” Jaime read aloud, laughing at the headlines. “‘From their social media adventures to their show on the red carpet, are wedding bells in the future for playboy Jaime Lannister and the beautiful Alayne Stone?” 

“I love that you’re a ‘playboy’ and I am reduced to ‘beautiful’,” Sansa sighed, relaxing against the chaise beside him. They had survived the premiere without further issue and Sansa was glad to see that _’Captain Westeros’_ was an action packed and funny film. Though, it was hard to see Jaime being tossed around by Sandor--a Sandor who laughed darkly in his chair beside her each time it happened on-screen.

Jaime, of course, hadn’t helped to stifle the paparazzi frenzy, and instead had fanned it when he snuck a photo of her talking with the correspondent for the ‘Literary Times’. He had tagged her and posted it with the caption _‘Does this best-selling novelist make my film look bad? #MyJonquil #DoItForEdd #Kingslayer’_ , and there was no mistaking that it had sent fans into a tizzy. According to Shae and Arya, the fanart was already popping up in tidal waves. Sansa was too afraid to Google it for herself.

Now that the non-stop press junkets and world premiere were over, she and Jaime had managed to scrape together two days off to relax. They were now both taking clear advantage of that, escaping to Casterly Rock where the press and the rest of the world couldn’t get to them. As far as havens went, it was idyllic, she certainly had no complaints. After sleeping in late this morning (having driven in directly from the premiere), they’d slipped into swimsuits and cover-ups before wandering to the large deck beside the pool, setting up residence under a canopy of trees to unwind.

“Well, you are certainly beautiful” Jaime kissed her temple. 

“And a best-selling novelist! Whatever, beautiful works I guess” she sighed. 

“I’m not a playboy either, you know” he chuckled, tossing the rag sheet aside to pull her closer. “I am a one-woman man.” 

“Yeah, I heard all about you and Margaery Tyrell” Sansa teased, poking him in the side. 

“Hey!” he squirmed but held her tighter, her laughter making him smile. To both of their amusement, Margaery’s antics hadn’t earned her any additional spotlight, the press focusing instead on Jaime kissing Sansa after taking her from Sandor’s side. They painted Jaime as a romantic hero and photos of their kiss and his Instagram post were plastered on the front of every magazine in existence--or so it seemed. Joanna had been beaming this morning at the sight of Jaime and Sansa on the front page of the newspaper. Sansa was fairly certain Joanna was going to frame that photo.

“I like it here” Sansa mused, looking over at the waterfall that flowed into the pool. “It's peaceful, reminds me of home.” 

“I will admit,” Jaime said softly, running his fingers through her hair. “Your house in the woods felt more like home than it ever did here, I don’t know why.” 

“Really?” she shifted to look up at him, a smile on her lips. 

“Really” he nodded. “Must’ve been the company.” 

“Must’ve” she agreed as Joanna appeared on the patio, hands full of a large tray filled with appetizers. 

“Alright kids,” Joanna set the tray on the table between the two loungers, before sinking into the vacant chaise. “I’m going to ‘mom out’ here for a second and make sure that you’re eating,” she laughed as Tywin appeared with a bottle of wine and several glasses. “And he’s going to be the ‘cool dad’ and bring liquor.” 

“Sounds perfect to me” Jaime agreed, taking a glass for him and Sansa as Tywin poured them. 

“It’s been too long since you’ve spent a weekend at home” Joanna beamed. “I admit I am excited.”

Jaime watched as his father sat beside his mother and made himself comfortable before handing her a glass of wine as well. So much for a romantic moment alone by the pool--though really he wouldn’t have been able to go too far with his parents just up the path and in the house. He made a mental note to squeeze in a real vacation for him and Sansa sometime soon. The Rock was the furthest _absolutely private_ location that they could go and be back in a reasonable amount of time should there be an emergency at the studio.

“These are the first two days off in a row I’ve had in a long time” Jaime explained. 

“Well we’re glad you chose to spend them here” Tywin raised his glass in salute. 

“I called Cersei this morning,” Joanna smiled. “Tyrion is busy in town so he won't be by. Still, we’ll have a huge dinner tonight, I am sure. She promised to bring something in on the drive down.” 

“Cersei?” Jaime scoffed. “Cersei bringing food? I hope she isn't cooking it” he chuckled and Joanna shrugged. 

“You can give her a hard time about it when she gets here” Joanna smiled. 

“You can use that gibberish ‘twin speak’ you two always chattered on in” Tywin’s feigned annoyance was adorable and Sansa couldn’t help but smile. 

“Twin speak?” she looked up at Jaime who shook his head. 

“Don’t--” 

“I can’t wait to hear this,” Sansa laughed. 

“Not a chance” Jaime shook his head. 

“Cersei will tell me, Cersei loves me” Sansa smirked. 

“Nope.” 

“Now that you’re staying the night” Joanna interjected. “I can break out the photo albums and videos once we’re tipsy.” 

“Oh yes, I cannot wait!” Sansa beamed and Jaime groaned. “I love your mother!”

“Maybe we should go back to the city, the paparazzi might be better than this” Jaime grumbled in the same moment that Cersei appeared on the path, arms laden down with several large paper bags. 

“Guess who brought Meereenese, baby?” Cersei declared loudly the moment she appeared. She was clad for summer, looking more posh than anyone in a bikini and designer kaftan had a right to, down to the sunglasses on her head. 

“And I love Cersei!” Sansa informed Jaime and was off the lounge in a flash, moving to help Cersei carry the bags the rest of the way. “Smells so good! You are the best.” 

“Oh, I know babe” Cersei smirked. Within minutes they had pulled two dozen containers from the bags, laying them out across the patio table to dig in. Tywin vanished only to appear with more wine and conversation flowed easily, as did laughter and stories of when Jaime and Cersei were young--which spurred more laughter. 

It was when Jaime was distracted by Twyin that Cersei shifted closer, a mischievous spark in her eyes. 

“You know” Cersei whispered and Sansa leaned in to hear her better. “I’ve never had a Sister.” 

“I’ll give you mine” Sansa quipped automatically, knowing deep down that she would never give Arya up. 

“I have a better idea” she smirked, an expression so like her twin's that it was startling to see. In a flash Cersei had produced her phone and opened the selfie camera; an adjustment of chairs later, Cersei had captured the perfect photo of them together, wine glasses in hand. 

Sansa watched with wide eyes and bated breath as Cersei typed a caption that was sure to set tongues on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make Jaime Captain America? Yeah, you bet your ass I did. #DoItForEdd
> 
> Thank you for reading! Don't forget about the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)!


	16. Part 16: Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, another update, another time hop. We're getting into the meat of it now, my dudes! 
> 
> Picsets are viewable [HERE](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/the-red-wulf/search/adaptation/)!!!
> 
> Also, if you're on discord, feel free to come and join the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)! It is a positive multi-shipper community filled with great people and fantastic conversation! I can't wait to talk with you there! There might even be exciting new challenges and stories on the horizon!
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is something I do for fun. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors--they're all my own. :D :P Thank you for reading!

“It's gotten quiet” Tywin leaned back against the leather of the couch. 

“I didn’t notice” Jaime chuckled, absently glancing at the doorway. By the time far too much take out and wine had been ingested, the sun had set and a chill set in the air, driving all of them inside to continue their evening. To his surprise, however, his mother had spirited Cersei and Sansa away, banning ‘all men’ from the living room for the rest of the evening. 

Tywin had, of course, given his wife an indulgent smile and nodded to Jaime, both of them disappearing into Tywin’s study to enjoy a glass of absurdly expensive scotch. The moments he could spend with his father in quiet conversation had been few and far between over the past few years, it was nice to catch up on things. Now, hours later the echoing laughter and giggles from down the hall had fallen silent. 

“They’ve either passed out or they’re up to no good,” Tywin smirked. “As a father, I can tell you _that_ much at the very least.” 

“You act like we were unholy terrors growing up” Jaime laughed. “Cersei and Tyrion were straight ‘A’ students, you had it pretty easy.” 

“Ah, but you my boy” Tywin sipped his scotch. “My eldest and my ‘heir’, what a wild thing you were.” 

“Hardly wild” Jaime ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe my first car should have been a little slower, that’s all” he added and his father’s laughter echoed in the study. 

“I thought you were going to be wild all your life” Tywin admitted. “But now I can see that those days are over--for the most part.” 

“For the most part” Jaime agreed. 

“I daresay your mother couldn’t approve more.” 

“They seem to be thick as thieves already,” Jaime replied. “Cersei included. Which quite frankly would be concerning if the alternative, Cersei hating Sansa, wasn’t even worse” he pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocking it to open the recent screenshot he had taken of Cersei’s Instagram. Like Arya, Cersei had decided to join in on the fun and judging by the reaction to her post already, it was going to be beyond viral by dawn. 

_‘Is my Sister prettier than me?--wait, don’t answer that’ #Babes #Kingslayer #IGuess #AndwhoeverEddIs’_ sat below the selfie of Sansa and Cersei, their faces pressed together with obvious happiness. Her caption had people foaming at the mouth, rabid for information on a possible elopement or wedding that they’d somehow missed. 

The fact the people were so desperate for information about his personal life was still flabbergasting. He had long been in the public eye but he had been diligent in never attaching his name to another’s. He was careful in his affairs and dalliances so that he could carry on without this frenzied crowd to observe and chime in. Now he couldn’t care less that the world knew how much he adored and loved Sansa. Just another thing in his life that she’d changed, he supposed. 

“Come” Tywin set his glass aside and patted Jaime’s knee as he stood. “As the men of the house, it is our job to check on the fairer sex when they grow suspiciously quiet.” 

“Sure” Jaime followed suit, falling into step behind his father as they made their way to the spacious sitting room. The sight that greeted them almost made him laugh out loud, though he managed to bite it back at the last second. Cersei stood in the kitchen, sorting out the coffee maker on the counter, but his mother and Sansa were passed out on the couch and loveseat respectively. 

“A little champagne was all it took” Cersei whispered flippantly. “They were all giggles and then _poof_ , fast asleep. Precious little lightweights.” 

“I am sure your mother will thank you for that in the morning” Tywin replied dryly. 

“You will be happy to know we covered all of the photo albums and even revisited the illustrious wedding video,” Cersei smiled. “I still think that mother’s dress was the peak of wedding fashion.” 

“She was the most beautiful bride, just as she is the most beautiful woman” Tywin agreed. 

“Ah, young love” Cersei sighed and Tywin rolled his eyes. “I am off to bed. Tyrion will be here in the morning, he felt left out of last night's festivities so I am sure he will come bearing bagels. Goodnight.” 

“That boy works too much,” Tywin nodded. “Goodnight” he called after her, moving to stand before the couch and Joanna. “Your mother is always happiest when you guys come home to visit,” he said softly. “Her ‘Little Lion Cubs’ she calls you.” 

“I know I haven’t been around much these past years” Jaime crossed to Sansa’s side, smiling at the way her cheek was smashed against the cushion. “But everything is different now, in the best way.” 

“Funny how that happens, isn’t it?” Tywin smirked. “I knew the first time I met your mother that I was going to spend the rest of our lives driving her insane.” 

“You know, for the first time in my life I understand that sentiment” Jaime agreed with a smile. 

“Good. That is all I could have asked for, for you” Tywin nodded. “Well, I can’t let her sleep here or she’ll be hurting tomorrow. We’re not as young as we used to be” he chuckled. “See to your woman, I’ll see to mine” he added, leaning down to lift Joanna into his arms. Jaime watched his parents, two people so incredibly different but still completely connected. Closing in on forty years of marriage and they were more in love than ever. 

As his father carried his mother away, Jaime turned back to Sansa, scooping her up with ease. She mewled in her sleep, wrapping her arms around his neck with a sleepy sigh as he carried her up to his room. 

Setting her on the bed, he helped her undress before tucking her into the plush blankets and pillows. He watched as she snuggled into them with a sigh, slipping back into contented slumber, then turned away to shut off the lights and discard his own clothes before crawling in beside her. 

Soon they’d have to return to the city proper, something he wasn’t looking forward to but knew it was necessary all the same. _The Kingslayer Saga_ awaited them and upon their return, costumes and armor fittings would commence full-bore. Excitement simmered in his gut at that, like it did on Christmas when he was young. The character that he had long admired through the written word was about to come alive--through him, which was beyond incredible. 

And, he looked across the pillows at Sansa, admiring the serene expression on her face as she slept. He’d found her. His Jonquil, his Joanna, the woman he was going to spend the rest of their lives driving absolutely insane. 

He couldn’t argue with that. 

“What do you think?” Stannis asked, turning away from where Jaime stood on the platform. He looked at Sansa who was critically assessing the armor and costume, her eyes keen enough to make Jaime shift on his feet. 

This was the third fitting, adjustments to the details and fit having been made and now they were in the home stretch. Ideally. 

She knew that she was being overly picky--a perfectionist really, but it was vital that they capture the spirit of _The Kingslayer_ and give his on-screen translation every chance for success. Fortunately for her, Stannis understood her need to capture perfection and had been very supportive throughout the arduous process. Much to Jaime’s chagrin of course. 

“San?” Jaime prompted after several minutes of silence. 

“I love it” Sansa nodded, stepping close enough to trace the sigil on his breastplate. “It suits him better, don’t you think?” she glanced at Stannis. 

“Some movement will be sacrificed” Stannis noted, his tone clipped and professional as always. “But we can make minor tweaks for the stunt versions that won’t be noticeable during the action scenes.” 

“I think it’s perfect,” Sansa continued, raising her hand to run them through Jaime’s hair, pushing it from his forehead. “Ser Barristan Selmy” she smiled. “We meet at last.” 

“So it seems” Jaime replied softly, a gauntlet-clad hand resting on the hilt of the gilded sword at his waist. “Am I everything you imagined, Miss. Stone?” he asked and she couldn’t help but smile. 

“Would you give us a moment?” she briefly looked to the director who nodded and quit the room, the costumers and armorers following in his wake. Within a few seconds they were alone and Sansa stepped onto the carpeted platform beside Jaime. Behind him were three floor to ceiling mirrors, giving her a great view of the entire ensemble, including the floor length cloak of blood red at his back. 

“You look so serious all of the sudden” he said softly, taking her hand in the one that wasn’t resting on his sword. 

“I can hardly believe this is all happening” she admitted. “Still, after this time, I cannot believe that Ser Barristan will be alive on the silver screen.”

“Your work is incredible, it deserves to be seen” he assured her. “I am honored to be a part of it.”

“Oh Jaime” she laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’ve always been a part of it, right from the start.” 

“Have I?” his lips curled into a smirk. 

“You know very well that I was prepared to tank the movie deal if you couldn’t play Barristan” she replied. “You are exactly as I imagined him to be, right down to this dangerous smirk” she reached up to touch the corner of his mouth, her fingertips lingering for a moment. 

“That’s a Lannister trademark, I’ll have you know” he teased, turning just enough to kiss her fingers. 

“I’ll pay you royalties then” she shifted closer, Jaime’s armored arm wrapping around her waist. 

“I am sure we can negotiate something,” he countered. 

“Have your people call my people” she whispered, going on her toes to close the distance between them, kissing him softly.

“Break it up you two” the deep voice of Sandor Clegane broke into their moment, both of them turning to see the large man lumber in, his heavy frame weighed down with The Hound’s armor. 

“Well now” Sansa faced him, staying close to Jaime’s embrace. “Don’t you look handsome.”

“This shit’s buggering heavy” he grumbled. 

“The horse you’re going to be riding is going to think the same thing” Jaime quipped, both men laughing. 

“Oh fuck off” Sandor grumbled, clapping Jaime on the shoulder with a suddenly serious expression. “Barristan.” 

“Hound” Jaime replied in kind. 

“Should I leave you two alone?” Sansa smirked. 

“Funny” Sandor shook his head, tugging at the neckline of his breastplate. As cumbersome as his armor seemed now, when he donned the thick burn scar prosthetics and wig, it was only going to get worse. “Well, what’s your verdict, boss lady? Do we pass muster?” 

“You’ll do,” Sansa nodded, looking back and forth between them. “You’ll both do.” 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_He knew this was madness, knew that he could be punished--she would be punished if they were to be caught. The consequences of being discovered were grave, but they did not stop his feet from carrying him to her door. Did not stop him from knocking and praying that she could open it._

_And she did._

_“Barristan” she whispered, her eyes going wide with surprise. “You shouldn’t be here.”_

_“But here I am nonetheless” he replied, drinking in the sight of her clad only in her nightdress and robe, her hair unbound and loose to her waist. She was perfection, far lovelier than any he’d ever met and he wanted nothing more than to call her his own._

_“Come in, quickly” she stepped aside, allowing him entry before closing the door behind him._

_“I know I shouldn’t have come” he told her. “I know that the circumstances are not ideal--we’re both bound by duty and cannot escape…” he shook his head, taking her hand gently in his. “But I am not strong enough to stay away from you--I cannot pretend that my affection for you does not exist.”_

_“Barristan” she whispered, stepping closer. She held tightly to his hand, raising the other to cup his cheek. A broken sigh escaped him as she stroked his jaw and he leaned into her touch like a contented cat._

_”I love you, Jonquil” he confessed. “With all that I am. I place myself at your mercy; tell me that you do not or cannot return my feelings and I will never speak of them again. But if--by some miracle of the Gods, if you could love me one day as I love you, then--” his words were silenced when the hand holding his jaw slid to the nape of his neck and guided his lips to hers._

_His heart leapt to life within his chest, its frantic pace spurring him on. Banding his arms around her, he molded her to his frame as her lips parted and allowed him to deepen the kiss. At long last his Jonquil--his love, was in his arms and he never wanted to let her go._

**Several Moons Later**

“Cut!” Stannis’ voice echoed in the great stone room and everything came to a halt. Jaime stepped back from where he was standing before _Jonquil_ stretching his neck as he searched the crew line for Sansa. 

They’d been filming on location for almost four moons now, working from sunup to sundown to capture everything they needed to perfection. The hours were long and exhausting, at the end of each day when he removed his armor he felt a million pounds lighter. But all of it was worth it, all of it was coming together perfectly. There was a long road of filming ahead of them, that was unmistakable, but the cast and crew were all fantastic.

“Thank the Gods, I’m starving” the gentle voice of his scene co-star and on screen love interest said, pulling his attention from the crowd. Myranda Royce was a young, relatively unknown actress that had been the last one that anyone had expected to be cast in such a pivotal role. Sansa, however, had been smitten the first time she’d seen Myranda’s audition; and to everyone’s great surprise, Stannis agreed. 

Now, with the help of a stunning auburn wig and a beautiful gown that displayed curves in all the right places, she had been transformed from an actress in television commercials to the one true love of Ser Barristan Selmy. Still, she couldn’t hold a candle to Sansa’s beauty--but that was beside the point.

“Better get to catering before Sandor and Tormund eat everything” Jaime laughed. “Again” he added and she laughed, making her way from the stone balcony set to the crowd beyond. Before Jaime could retreat, however, Stannis stepped forward to give him several blocking notes and directions, helping to ensure that Jaime would stay in the proper lighting for the entire scene. Jaime quickly memorized the new direction as a wardrobe assistant came to help him from his cloak and heavier armor plates. 

“Eat something, we’ll take a quick break and get back to it once everyone has refueled a bit” Stannis said with a crooked smile. “I can’t have you fainting, Sansa wouldn’t be pleased with me. Not to mention I wouldn’t be able to move you with all of this metal strapped to your person.” 

“Speaking of, where is she?” Jaime looked around once more. 

“Asleep” Stannis chuckled. “She sat down a while ago and is completely out. We’ve all sort of given her a wide berth to enjoy her nap. We know she’s been working late--even after she leaves here to ensure the script and everything is going smoothly.” 

“Not to mention they’re in final prep for the next book” Jaime added. “I worry she’s overworking herself. I will check on her, thank you.” 

“No problem” Stannis nodded. “And I meant it, eat something. Both of you.” 

“Yes, sir” Jaime lumbered his way across the set and through the line of cameramen and sound crew. He stepped back inside the ancient castle, weaving his way through people until he reached the large sitting area at the top of the stairs. There, completely passed out on a very old velvet settee, was Sansa. She was curled into a ball, a large jacket--presumably Stannis’, laid over her to keep her warm. 

Stannis had no idea how hard Sansa had truly been working. There were nights when they would leave the set and return to the plush hotel penthouse where she would settle into her chair at the dining table and chip away at the hundreds of emails and messages she had waiting. Jaime would have to drag her away, more often than not, just to ensure she ate enough before they tumbled into bed together. He’d never given thought to the life of a writer--one could easily assume it was a life of leisure, but she worked harder than anyone he knew.

The next installment in _The Kingslayer Saga_ was in the last stages of editing before it went to print and the hype surrounding it was already monumental. Last moon, Sansa had pulled Sandor aside and told him what was coming; that The Hound was finally going to be able to tell his story and Jaime had been shocked at how visibly emotional the large man had become over it. Just as Jaime was attached to Barristan, Sandor had become attached to The Hound and the prospect of his story being told had given him immense joy. 

Of course, with all of this hype and excitement, came rabid fans and photographers that seemed to hound them--no pun intended, all day every day. That too was exhausting but they were managing to overcome it together, as they did with all things. 

Moving to her side, Jaime crouched as best he could, running his finger across her cheek. She started awake, eyes darting open to land on him, her body relaxing instantly. 

“Shit” she sighed. “I fell asleep?” 

“You did” he smiled, leaning closer to steal a kiss. “It’s lunch time though, I think you should eat.” 

“Yeah” she nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Wow, how embarrassing,” she glanced around. “Did everyone see?” 

“So what if they did” Jaime scoffed. “You’ve been working more than anyone else here, well except the caterers who can’t keep up with how much everyone eats.” 

“Yeah” she nodded, moving to sit up. “I sat down to talk to Shae and I must have crashed when we hung up.” 

“Understandable” Jaime shrugged. “Let’s go eat, yeah?” 

“Yeah, alright” she repeated, still half asleep and he helped her to her feet. She tugged on the large jacket--these castles were drafty after all, pulling it around her as they walked to catering together. He was looking forward to Friday, since after that they would have a sennight off while the crew cleaned up and vacated the castle that would serve as the capital. They were going home--to Sansa’s home in the North and they intended to spend every second they could locked away from the world. 

And a small amount of time catching up with Arya. 

Once their vacation was over, they weren’t going far--back to Hornwood to utilize some of the naturally beautiful scenery for a few outdoor shots. He hadn’t told Sansa yet, but when they were in Hornwood, he had plans to bring Edd to the set, a secret look for the hotel waiter that had become a trending hashtag. It was sure to be a blast.

Working their way through the line in catering, Jaime loaded up a plate for himself and when he noticed that Sansa hadn’t taken much, he started to pile things on her plate as well. He pointedly ignored her look of exasperation, smirking to a watchful Podrick who was eating nearby. Moving to a secluded table in the corner, they tucked into their meals though he kept half an eye on Sansa who still looked a little wan. Friday and their sennight off couldn’t come fast enough. 

“What are you giggling at?” Sansa rolled to face him, snuggling close to his side in their huge shared bed. They’d survived the long day of filming and he had somehow convinced her to leave work alone for the night and share a ‘naked dinner’ with him instead. Something they both very much enjoyed. 

“Sandor sent me a photo” he turned his phone to her, showing her the candid that he had taken while they were on set. Jaime was clad in most of his Barristan armor, relaxing between takes while Sansa was snuggly tucked into his arms as he kissed her forehead. He remembered the exact moment, he had wrapped his cloak around her to keep her warm, something that had made her laugh, both of them stealing a quiet moment together. Generally Stannis was pretty strict about sharing photos from the set, not wanting to give too much away, but that hadn’t stopped Sandor from sneaking this one. Besides, you couldn’t see too much of his costume.

“That’s lovely,” Sansa agreed. “Send it to me?” 

“I’ll do you one better” Jaime smirked, opening his social media. 

“You’re _such_ a troll” she laughed, burrowing her face into the pillow. Jaime typed quickly, posting the photo to his Instagram after he decided on the perfect caption. 

“Perfect.” 

“How long until they manipulate that into fanart?” Sansa raised her head, scooting up to read his caption. “Really Jaime?” she rolled her eyes. 

“What?” he laughed, setting the phone on the bedside table. “You should have been Jonquil. Just like you’re _my_ Jonquil.” 

“I can’t be Jonquil, I am not an actress” she countered, the conversation one they’d had many times before. 

“So? You wouldn’t need to act, you’re lovely and graceful on your own” he pulled her into his arms and shifted the blankets to cover their nudity--not that he didn’t enjoy admiring Sansa’s bare body. Not one bit.

“I am already exhausted” she kissed his chin. “I don’t need to also worry about the bags under my eyes showing up on screen.” 

“Oh, please” he scoffed. 

“I mean it” she poked his side, causing him to squirm. “I’ve never been this exhausted in my life, not to mention anxious over the book going to print on Monday.” 

“It's all approved then?” 

“Yes, I confirmed with Shae this afternoon before I so rudely fell asleep on set” she replied. “Imagine being mere feet from _Westeros’ Sexiest Man Alive_ and falling asleep!”

“Blasphemy” he smiled at her.

“I guess I’ll just have to settle for being mere centimeters from him now” her hand trailed down his back, lingering on his hip before closing the distance between her hand and his cock. “With having him hard and ready in my hand” he hissed as she stroked him, bringing him back to life even though they’d already come together a short while ago once their dinner had been devoured.

“Stark--” 

“With having him all to myself” she continued, her fingers wrapping tightly around him and chasing all rational thought from his mind. “Each and every night.”

“Fuck that’s good” he exhaled roughly, his body instinctively following her lead as she guided him closer and into the cradle of her thighs, settling on her back and wrapping her legs around him. 

“It always is, Ditto” she smirked as she aligned him with her center. 

“That it is” he rocked his hips and sank home. _Home_. 

“Fuck” Sansa’s back arched as he filled her, her body still sensitive from how hard Jaime had made her come earlier. The friction was delicious, the best sort of ache echoing through her as she held him tight against her. 

Everything in her life had become so chaotic and overwhelming, leaving Jaime the only rock and constant in all of the madness. They had become each other’s strength, leaning on the other when needed and she knew that she had been leaning heavily on him the past few sennights. While Jaime was used to the hustle and bustle of filming a major motion picture, she wasn’t and it had begun to weigh on her. 

Still, she had Jaime at her side and that was more than she could ever ask for. He always knew what she needed, even if she didn’t realize it. Like tonight; their naked dinner in bed--featuring Jaime’s talented fingers, was just what she needed to feel more energized than ever. They had spread their room service out on the bed, both of them enjoying far too many carbs than was good for them. Once their bellies were full, Sansa had taken matters into her own hand and crawled into Jaime’s lap to enjoy dessert. And oh what a precious dessert it had been. Still, she had always been greedy and was enjoying coming back for seconds. 

Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she held herself anchored to him as they made slow, languid love to each other. Cocooned in the plush sheets and blankets, they were the only two people in the world, fully in tune and thoroughly connected. Time passed, though she could not say how much, she was completely lost in a haze of passion.

“Jaime” she gasped as she felt it build, her hands tunneling into his hair to hold him close. 

“That’s it, Gods--you’re so fucking perfect” he whispered, burying his face into her neck, gently sucking on the sensitive flesh there. His husky words pushed her over the edge, her climax taking her with enough force to steal her breath entirely. She felt Jaime as he followed her, his body sliding deep within hers as he poured into her. He did not move away, but he was careful not to crush her beneath him. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, both of them trying to catch their breath and return to their bodies. Eventually he lifted his head, softly kissing her before shifting to her side and pulling her back into his arms.

“I can’t feel my body” she laughed breathlessly. 

“Then my job here is done” he smirked, kissing her forehead. “I love you” he whispered, pulling the blankets higher around them. 

“Ditto, Ditto” she snuggled closer, burrowing into his warmth and allowed the sated exhaustion to pull her into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #DoItForEdd 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Don't forget about the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)!


	17. Part 17: Plot Twist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's go, my dudes!!! This is a long, sugary, frosted fluff concoction---this chapter, I didn't mean the whole story...oh, wait....
> 
> Some of you saw it coming and I 100% looked like the Leonardo DiCaprio meme reading the comments on the last chapter! <3 I love, love, love you all! OH and the scene they're filming in the beginning was one of the excerpts in a previous chapter ;) 
> 
> Picsets are viewable [HERE](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/the-red-wulf/search/adaptation/)!!!
> 
> Also, if you're on discord, feel free to come and join the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)! It is a positive multi-shipper community filled with great people and fantastic conversation! I can't wait to talk with you there! There might even be exciting new challenges and stories on the horizon!
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is something I do for fun. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors--they're all my own. :D :P Thank you for reading!

“It should be illegal, really it should” Joanna whispered to Sansa as they watched Father and Son take their places. And she wasn’t wrong. Not a single bit.

If one didn’t know that Tywin Lannister was a tycoon firmly rooted in the modern era, they could have looked upon him now and assume that he was born to wear the armor of medieval kings--to be a king himself. It was absolutely perfect and beside his Son who was similarly clad, there was no mistaking the familial resemblance. Jaime Lannister and Tywin Lannister _were_ Barristan and Lionel Selmy, it was so effortless it was scary.

The moment Sansa had proposed the idea of Tywin Lannister playing Lionel Selmy, Stannis had been intrigued at the idea--not only because he was Jaime’s actual Father, but having Tywin Lannister in the film would surely get tongues wagging--not that they needed any help with that. A screen-test later, they were measuring Tywin for armor and a speech coach was helping him to learn his lines. 

“I mean look at him--just look at my Ty” Joanna continued, her eyes unable to look away from Tywin’s person. Belatedly Sansa realized that she hadn’t replied to Joanna’s first comment, her brain having been too distracted by the events of the morning. 

“As lovely as Tywin is, Jo, my eyes are elsewhere” Sansa smiled and Joanna laughed softly, looping her arm through Sansa’s. “Your combined genetics have bred one beautiful man.” 

“That’s all Ty,” Joanna replied, leaning against Sansa’s side. “Tyrion got my short stature--the poor dear, but the twins are all Ty.” 

“Quiet on set” Stannis called out, silencing the entire room. “Background---and action!” Everyone who had gathered in the ‘Great Hall’--cast and crew alike, watched in rapt fascination and silent awe as the real-life Father and Son breathed life into Barristan and Lionel Selmy. It took a few tries for Tywin to find his rhythm, but once he did it was heart-wrenching. 

Sansa did her best to blink back tears at the scene--the parting words between them before Barristan left the city forever, the scene where Lionel promises that Barristan will always be his Son, dragon’s or not. The love there in Tywin’s eyes shone brightly, just as it did in Jaime’s, and it gave the scene so much more depth. This scene was the less emotional of the Barristan and Lionel scenes, the more heart-wrenching of the two would take place in the woods and be filmed near Hornwood in the next few moons. Still, you could feel the emotions between the two golden men.

“You are my son, Jaime--shit” Tywin paused and a few chuckles sounded in the room. 

“Go again,” Stannis encouraged, cameras still rolling. 

“You are my son, Barristan,” Tywin continued, the scene moving forward. Sansa smiled as Jo leaned her head on her shoulder, the Mama Lion watching the two men with a sheen of moisture in her eyes. 

A few minutes later Stannis’ voice called for a cut and the room burst into a flurry of activity once more. She could see the moment Jaime broke character, smiling at his Father as the two exchanged words she couldn’t make out over the noise. 

“That was lovely” Joanna lifted her head and looked up at Sansa. 

“I’m sorry, I was distracted” Sansa cleared the fog from her brain. 

“You’ve been fairly scattered all day” Joanna frowned. “Very unlike you. Are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry. Everything’s been so overwhelming.” 

“Jaime did mention that your dance card has been packed full of late.” 

“And unfortunately it shows no signs of letting up. We’re been filming for months and we’re thankfully on schedule, it's just a grueling pace. At least the book is done and going to press, now I just have to worry about the others in the series” she gave a sardonic laugh.

“Well after today you have seven days off, perhaps your Sister will be just the thing you need to relax” Joanna gave a small frown. 

“Maybe” Sana agreed. “I know Jaime and I are very much looking forward to a quiet week at home.” And they were. And home it was. Both of them were beyond exhausted and more than ever Sansa needed to be home, to center herself and clear her mind. To figure out the future.

Not only that, but they had plans to surprise Arya at one of their dinners, schedules provided. Asha Greyjoy should be in the North for filming by then and she was going to be their mystery dinner guest. The evening should prove interesting at the very least.

“How much longer today, do you think?” Joanna asked.

“They’ll likely do a few more takes, a few more angles and what not” Sansa checked her printed schedule for the day's minutes. “They will be in their armor most of the day.” 

“Hopefully Ty is not too used to 'retirement' that he exhausts himself” she said with a breezy sigh, making Sansa laugh--a genuine laugh. “I have plans for that man tonight” she added and Sansa laughed at the overshare.

“One of Stannis’ finest qualities is that he can tell when he’s pushing the actors too far and pulls back, he is very aware of lunches and breaks” Sansa assured her. “Don’t worry about your plans being foiled.”

“Good, he’s not getting any younger, you know” she added as quiet was called for once again. Joanna’s attention was immediately pulled back to the Lannister-Selmy men, both of them watching as they continued to the second part of their scene.

“Cut, alright everyone go eat something” Stannis called out. “And drink water for Gods’ sake,” he grumbled, tossing his script onto his chair and turning to talk with his Assistant Director Davos Seaworth. 

Jaime let his shoulders relax, the weight of the armor coming free as several armor-wranglers surrounded him and his Father. Leaving them both in their under-tunics and breeches, they were handing jackets with _The Kingslayer Saga_ emblazoned on the back above Barristan’s sigil. 

“I don’t know how you do it” Tywin clapped his shoulder, the two of them going in search of Joanna and Sansa. 

“It’s not all glitz and glam like people think” Jaime chuckled. “You’re holding up well though, armor gets heavy after a while, doesn’t it?”

“It does” Tywin chuckled. “But us Lannisters are made of stronger stuff.” 

“True enough” they rounded the line of cameras and production equipment to find their women waiting. His Mother was instantly at his Father’s side, chattering on happily about how handsome he looked in his Selmy armor. Tywin, as always, smiled indulgently and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“Hey” Sansa’s hand slipped into his. 

“Hey” he raised his free hand to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. “You alright?” he asked, knowing that she had a rough start to the day. 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” she glanced around quickly. “Can I steal you for a moment?” 

“Of course” he nodded, his pulse skyrocketing with nerves. “We’ll meet you in catering, yeah?” he nodded to his parents, leading Sansa away from the crowded areas and to the quiet solar in the first floor of the castle they’d been filming in. He pulled the door shut behind them, ensuring their privacy for whatever was on Sansa’s mind--and he was certain it was something big.

They stood in silence for several moments and when Jaime couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled her into his arms. Something was weighing on her and he didn’t know how else to fix it. The action was innocuous enough, but the moment Sansa was in his embrace, she burst into tears. She sobbed quietly, sagging against his strength and he just held her, smoothing her hair and doing his best to whisper soft words of assurance. 

When she had cried her fill, she lifted her head and laughed softly as she used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe her face. 

“Thank Gods for waterproof mascara” she laughed though fresh tears spilled from her eyes. 

“You know, if you’re going to break up with me you picked a pretty bad place to do it, Stark” he couldn’t resist teasing her, even though the idea of it terrified him. 

“No, nothing like that” she said softly, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize how badly I needed a good cry.” 

“Now that it’s out of your system, can you tell me what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?” he asked, relaxing his embrace to allow a bit of space between them, but keeping his arms around her. “I know we’ve been busy, but I can tell there’s something bothering you. I like to think I know you pretty well.”

“Yeah” she gave a small smile. “But I think we’re about to get a whole lot busier.” 

“How’s that?” he frowned in the same instant the door to the solar burst open, the large form of Tormund Giantsbane charging through. Clad in casual clothing, his ‘Mance-Beard’ now grown out for full effect, he bounced in like a ginger Santa Claus with a twinkle in his eyes. Though he wasn't schedule to be on set today, Tormund enjoyed showing up and spreading his own unique brand of joy, more often than not with Sandor Clegane behind him rolling his eyes.

“There you two are!” he laughed as he wrapped his arms around them both. “Guess who just had the final fitting for his costume?”

“We’re sort of in the middle of something here,” Jaime replied. 

“Oh?” Tormund looked between them, frowning at the obvious tears on Sansa’s cheeks. “Oh I see. Right.” 

“Giantsbane you cunt” Sandor’s voice called out from the hall. “Don’t you ever knock?” 

“I was excited” Tormund reasoned, releasing them. 

“Yeah, like a damned overgrown puppy” Sandor grumbled. “Come on, I’m hungry and you’re intruding. Let’s go to catering.”

“Alright” Tormund sighed. 

“And Tor?” Sansa sniffled and called after him. “Congrats on the costume” she added and just like that the bounce was back in his step, trotting after Sandor and closing the door behind them. 

“I swear he’s five years old” Jaime chuckled at their unique friend, shaking his head. “Now then, where we’re we---” 

“I’m pregnant” she blurted the words, eyes going wide as if she hadn’t meant to say them. “I mean, I think I am--I’m pretty sure I am” she took a deep breath. “The home test says yes, I haven’t had my period and this morning, well…that was an experience.” 

“That’s what you’re so worried about?” he felt relief bubble through his veins, his entire body relaxing. Sansa, however, frowned deeply. “Sorry, that probably wasn’t the proper reaction to that announcement, was it?” 

“Certainly a surprising one, I will admit” she replied, her eyes brighter with amusement now. 

“Are you upset about it? Is that why the tears?”

“No” she shook her head. “Maybe more about the timing of it? Scared more than anything.” 

“Scared? Why?”

“I’ve never been a Mother before, obviously” she explained. “And we’re so busy with the movies and books we barely have time to eat--let alone be parents.” 

“As my Mother would say; ‘the Gods never give us more than we can handle’,” he reasoned. “If you are or you aren’t, we’ll take it as it comes and as long as we’re together we can handle it” he promised, leaning close to kiss her forehead. Together they took a few calming breaths, and then Sansa’s giggle broke the silence. 

“You’re already picking out names and planning your social media attack, aren’t you, Ditto?” 

“You know me so well. I can’t help it, I think it’s wonderful,” Jaime smiled. “Like really wonderful.” 

“Yeah?” her lips curved into that familiar smile that he loved so much. 

“Absolutely. With your brains and my beauty, our children will conquer the world” her laughter at his words wrapped around his heart like a balm. 

“I have an appointment Monday,” she said softly. “With my usual doctor back home.” 

“I’ll be there” he said without hesitation, there wasn’t a chance in the Seven Hells that he was going to miss it. 

“Jaime--” 

“I’ll be there,” he repeated. “The press can bugger off. I am not going to miss it and I am sure as Hells not ashamed, not a damned bit. You’re stuck with me now, Stark, and there’s not a damn thing wrong with that.” 

“Neither am I” she paused, furrowing her brows. “I am sure my family will lose their conservative-religious minds, but it's not like they’re a large part of my life to begin with.” 

“What because we’re not married?” he scoffed. “That’s easily fixed but I think we’re both in this for the long haul regardless of rings.” 

“We are,” she agreed. 

“We might need to warn my parents, just in case something leaks” Jaime noted. 

“We can do that at dinner, sort of prepare them?” she suggested.

“It’s settled then,” Jaime pulled her close. “No more crying--unless it’s happy tears.” 

“Alright” Sansa held tightly to him. 

“I love you, Stark” he pressed his cheek to her temple. 

“Ditto, Ditto.” 

Sansa felt about a hundred pounds lighter after her conversation with Jaime. She had been on the verge of panic since she’d taken the home pregnancy test--thank the Gods for ‘discreet’ packaging and online ordering. But knowing that Jaime was excited about the prospect like she was, had helped to sooth her worries. It made getting through the rest of the day much, much easier.

When she’d first realized that her period hadn’t showed up, she had wracked her brain trying to figure out when she had missed taking her birth control but in all the chaos of filming she couldn’t remember. It wasn’t until she’d had to bolt to the bathroom and surrender her breakfast that things began to click in her mind. Excited though she was, she was overwhelmed by the awful timing. She already had more on her plate than she’d ever had before, and now...well--

“Sansa?” Joanna stepped around the kitchen island, placing her hand on her back. “You stopped chopping, are you alright? Did you cut yourself?” 

“Oh” Sansa’s eyes focused on the cutting board and the trimmings she’d been chopping for their salad. “Yeah, sorry. No, I didn't cut myself, I'm alright.” Since tonight was their last night in King’s Landing for sometime, they had elected to spend a quiet evening at The Rock with Jaime’s parents. Admittedly Sansa loved them too, and was glad to see them before they ventured North. Cersei had also showed up, though Tyrion was once again working and wouldn’t be there until later in the evening.

“You’ve been scattered all day, is everything alright?” Joanna asked and Sansa’s eyes went to Jaime and where he stood beside Tywin and Cersei. Jaime’s conversation had fallen quiet and he was looking at her with a hundred questions in his eyes. She gave him a very small nod, silently imparting her meaning to him and Jaime smiled--Gods he was gorgeous. 

_Precious--_ No! Now is not the time, she chided herself. 

“I suppose it’s only fair you hear it from us before you read about it in some tawdry gossip rag” Jaime ran a hand over his mouth as he set his glass of whisky on the counter. “And don't get your hopes too high, since it hasn’t been confirmed--” 

“Oh my Gods! You’re pregnant!? You’re pregnant!” Joanna screamed, bouncing on her feet--she was practically vibrating. 

“It seems very likely,” Sansa admitted, her cheeks surely bright red.

“Set the knife down--now, because I’m going to hug you!” Joanna beamed and the moment her hands had relinquished the knife, Joanna’s pulled her into a fierce hug. “Oh my Gods, this is wonderful!”

“Oh Jay, you dirty slut!” Cersei laughed, running her hand through Jaime’s hair to create a rat’s nest. 

“Cersei!” Joanna pulled back to glare at her daughter. 

“Oh please,” Cersei rolled her eyes. 

“This is so exciting!” Joanna turned back to Sansa. “When will you know?” 

“Monday, I have an appointment already,” Sansa explained. 

“I’ll be with her,” Jaime chimed in. “And yes, I will call you right after” he added before she could ask. 

“Good” Joanna smiled. 

“I’m too young to be a Grandfather” Tywin smirked and Joanna rolled her eyes. 

“Oh hush, you old bat” she laughed. “I have been waiting years to be a Grandma! I thought my children were never going to settle down.” 

“Don’t look at me” Cersei waved her hand around her stomach. “This baby shop is closed!” 

“Cersei!” 

“What?”

“Nice, Cee-Cee” Jaime scoffed. 

“Hey, I’m not the one that knocked up my girlfriend so she’d be stuck with me forever” Cersei countered. "Nice job, by the way."

“I didn’t--” 

“He so did” Sansa winked at Cersei and the two shared a laugh while Jaime rolled his eyes. 

“How about a toast” Tywin stepped in, raising his glass. Everyone followed suit, lifting their glasses--Sansa lifting her water. “To Jaime and Sansa,” Tywin continued. “And to the next generation of Lannisters. May they be as lovely and intelligent as their Mother.” 

“Hey!” Jaime protested as they clinked glasses, Sansa doing her absolute best not to bawl at Tywin’s kind words. “Hey,” Jaime whispered, moving to her side having obviously seen her emotional battle. 

“Happy tears, I promise” she quickly assured him. 

“Good” he smiled, kissing her temple. “Good.” 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_Barristan shed his chest plate, his body sagging with exhaustion and he leaned against the closest tree for support. Sliding down that bark, his butt hit the snow and underbrush at the tree’s base, allowing him to relax against it._

_He had been riding hard, though not as hard as his initial journey South, and was grateful for the cool air that surrounded him. Snow and winter’s chill already blanketed the land North of The Wall, but at least here the temperature was livable. His goal was to reach Mance’s lands within the next two days, and that meant hard riding for both him and his horse--a horse that seemed to be glaring daggers at him from across the clearing._

_“Even my horse hates me” he muttered to himself._

_“Not everything is about you” Barristan’s body when shock-still at the familiar haunting voice._

_“No” he sat up straighter, eyes frantically sweeping across the terrain. “It cannot be…”_

_“And yet, it is.”_

_“You’re dead” his voice broke as he said the words, the ache in his heart still fresh and raw. He had secreted himself back into the realm of the Dragon Queen and to his ancestral home to attend his ailing Father. He had ridden hard enough to nearly kill his mount but he hadn’t made it in time. Instead of saying his goodbyes, he could only attend the burial of his Father. It had been heart-wrenching, to watch as the Great Lionel Selmy was committed to ash at the feet of the Gods. To see a man who had made realms and armies reduced to nothing._

_“We still have one last conversation left in us, don’t we?” the voice continued and a second later the large, armor clad form of his Father emerged from behind a tree directly in front of him._

_“Gods” he roughly exhaled, stumbling to his feet and away from his discarded armor. “Am I dead?”_

_“Not a chance” Lionel’s lips twisted into that signature Selmy smirk. “You promised once that we’d meet again and here we are.”_

_“I am sorry I didn’t make it in time to say goodbye,” he blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I tried--I failed and I am so sorry.”_

_“We can do that here, now” Lionel offered, motioning to the clearing around him. “You have never failed me, Son.”_

_“And if I don’t want to say goodbye? If I can’t?”_

_“I am afraid that we don’t have a choice” Lionel stepped closer, his cloak dragging behind him but not disturbing the foliage, a painful reminder to Barristan that this specter was only that--a ghost of the Great Lionel. “This is our moment. The last one we’ll share for some time.”_

_“I refuse--” Barristan swallowed back his emotions--or tried to, failing miserably. gone was the Kingslayer and in his stead stood a small boy, staring up into the face of his Father who no longer walked this earth, begging for some sense of peace or comfort._

_“I know” Lionel said softly, lifting a hand to cup his jaw, the touch cold and strange. “It's up to you now.”_

_“What is?” Barristan choked out the words._

_“To protect the people, to save the realm” Lionel explained. “You’re a Selmy and you are my son, it is your duty to serve the people. Winter is coming and it waits for no man.”_

_“What if I cannot--”_

_“You can and you must” Lionel insisted and Barristan lowered his forehead to rest against the ghostly chest plate of his Father, the Selmy sigil pressing into his flesh. He pressed harder, hoping that the imprint would mark him forever, but there was no substance to the form before him, no reality._

_“Please---” he pleaded on a ragged breath._

_“You have my sword arm, but your Mother’s heart” Lionel said softly, barely-there hands running through Barristan’s hair. “The best pieces of us both.”_

_“And now I have lost you both” Barristan whispered._

_“But you have never lost yourself, and for that I admire you” Lionel countered. “Even when it cost you everything, you did the right thing. You stood tall, as a Selmy should.”_

_“Aside from you, I had nothing to lose” Barristan raised his eyes to look at his Father’s face--if for the last time. He committed it to memory, every wrinkle, every line and angle, every last piece._

_“I daresay that when the Lady Jonquil died she took your sense of self-preservation with her” Lionel chuckled. “Slaying Kings and fighting off a barrage of seduction from Free Folk women. A true Selmy, you are.”_

_“And now the last.”_

_“For now,” Lionel said softly. “Perhaps one day that huntress will win you over and you will have a Son of your own.”_

_“Father--”_

_“But that is a fight for another day” Lionel interjected. “On this day, we say our farewells.”_

_“It hurts” Barristan whispered._

_“I know” Lionel frowned. “But I am with your Mother now and that is all I have wanted. My heart died with her, my body has been going through the motions--protecting you and helping you to make your own way in this world. In that, at the very least, I have succeeded.”_

_“Will I never see you again?”_

_“Someday,” he assured him. “But for now you must step into the future without me.”_

_“That future seems dark--”_

_“There are dark times coming, and strong men like you and your companion, The Hound are going to have to carry its worst burdens.”_

_“What do you mean--”_

_“The night is dark and full of terrors. Just know that you are strong enough, you always have been” Lionel placed his hands on his shoulders, the touch barely heavier than the weight of his tunic. “Because you are a Selmy and you are **my** Son.” _

_“Don’t go” he pleaded as his Father’s form seemed to fade before his eyes._

_“We’ll meet again one day” Lionel promised, still faded and barely visible. “Now go, chase your destiny and be the man you were meant to be, my boy.” His voice trailed off as his body vanished completely from sight._

_“No” Barristan sobbed, sinking to his knees in the cold snow. The grief that he had managed to suppress for so long broke free, consuming him completely. His life as he’d known it had ended long ago, but now his last tether to who he was--where he came from, was gone and he felt so alone, so lost._

_There, in the haunting silence of the Western Woods, Barristan Selmy fell apart. Bits and pieces of his soul scattered to the snow, leaving him no option but to fit the pieces of himself back together any way they would fit._

“Is it weird?” Arya made a face, sipping the bottle of beer she’d been nursing since her arrival. 

“No” Sansa laughed. “Aside from being incredibly tired and occasionally nauseous, I don’t feel any different.” 

“You don’t like…feel pregnant?” 

“No” Sansa replied. “But I am only about eight weeks, give or take, I am sure that will change as time goes on” she relaxed on the chaise lounge she shared with her Sister. Arya had been at the house any time she could spare the last few days, clearly glad to have Sansa back in the North and Sansa herself was very happy to be out of the crowded city. 

This afternoon the doctor had confirmed Sansa’s suspicions and it was still very surreal to think about it. She and Jaime had snuck into the side door of the office, her doctor thankfully aware of their celebrity status enough to have emptied the office of patients and nurses before their arrival. At least she knew her secret was safe from the world. 

For now. 

Sansa had been shocked, especially when the sonogram had shown the tiny ‘blip’ of their baby--suddenly it became so _real_. She was prepared for a positive result, but she wasn’t prepared for the reality that her body was working overtime to create a new little life. Jaime---who vehemently insists that he did not cry and there was only something in his eyes, hadn’t set the sonogram printout down since they’d gotten home.

He had called his Mother as promised and Joanna was over the moon, having burst into tears on the video call. Sansa’s first and only call had been to Arya to confirm her arrival for dinner tonight, wanting to tell her in person. Which she just did.

“I can’t believe it.” 

“Neither can I,” Sansa agreed. 

“Jaime _fucking_ Lannister knocked up my Sister.”

“Ya-Ya” Sansa sighed, smiling in spite of herself, playfully elbowing her. 

“This revelation makes what I am about to say even more important.” 

“What does?” 

“You being pregnant” Arya explained. “While you’re here in the North--and probably even more when you’re back in the city, you need protection. A bodyguard.” 

“Arya--” 

“You do,” Arya continued. “When we got mobbed that day, I had an idea.” 

“Which is?” 

“Jon’s term of service has ended, and he’s not only the only Stark we can stomach, but he’s also army-trained,” Arya said. “You trust him and he could protect you.” 

“That’s not…” Sansa paused. “Not an entirely bad idea. The idea of a stranger following me around is...no.” 

“I know, I’m a genius” Arya scoffed. “Anyway, we can talk to him about it--I mean, I sort of already did but we can hammer out the details together. I am sure he will be by later in the week, probably for Thursday’s dinner.” 

“That’s fine,” Sansa smiled. “Thank you for looking out for me, Ya-Ya.” 

“Of course,” she replied. 

“And if Jon will be here Thursday, I am glad we are doing dinner tonight first.” 

“Why’s that?” Arya asked.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaime’s voice came from the house’s back door and Sansa concealed her smirk with her water glass as Arya turned around in the chair to greet him. Only to freeze...

“Oh holy fuck” Arya whispered. “Sansa…” 

“Yes, Ya-Ya?” she asked in a sing-song voice.

“Asha Greyjoy is in your kitchen,” she gaped. 

“Probably because she was invited to dinner” Sansa explained. 

“You’re my favorite Sister.” 

“I’m your only Sister” Sansa corrected.

“And Jacket is now my favorite Brother” Arya pushed to her feet and smoothed her faded band t-shirt. “Shit--how do I look?” 

“Perfect” Sansa replied. “Now go get her, tiger!” she laughed as Arya made her way inside, Jaime quickly replacing her on the lounger. “Hello Ditto” she gave him a quick kiss. 

“Gods you’re beautiful” he smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Did you tell her?” 

“I did” Sansa smiled. “I see you put the printout down finally” she teased. 

“It’s in my wallet” he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked the lock-screen (a selfie of them together) to show her that he had set the sonogram as his home screen. “But I still have it close.” 

“Ditto…” she swallowed a lump of emotion. This man was just too adorable to handle.

“Cut me a little slack, Stark, I found out today that I am going to be a Dad--my mind is pretty blown” he kissed her. “I can’t wait to scream it to the world. Once we hit the second trimester, I am going to blow up the world with my Instagram post, I promise you that. However, first things first, we’d better supervise Arya before she does something ridiculous.” 

“Like kidnap Asha?” 

“Exactly.” 

“You’re going to have to be careful” Asha warned Jaime from her seat across from him at the back patio table. While he had joked about being worried about Arya kidnapping Asha, his worries had been unfounded--in truth he was now more worried about Asha kidnapping Arya. The two had hit it off, which was no surprise, they were both strong women with foul mouths and no patience for most people in the world. Dinner had been a highly pleasant affair, Sansa cooking her ‘famous’ Arrabiata pasta that they’d devoured before adjourning to the back patio. 

“Of?” he prompted.

“You keep touching Sansa’s stomach, people are going to figure out she’s pregnant if you do that in public” Asha smiled, sipping her red wine. “It’s a dead give away.”

“Fuck” Jaime hand his hands through his hair, quickly glancing to where Arya and Sansa were getting the lemon cakes and dessert wine from the kitchen. “We just found out this morning--or confirmed it rather.” 

“Congratulations to you both,” Asha replied. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Though I am sure I could make a mint selling that tidbit to the press” she quipped. “They’re positively feral. If I had known that I was going to be mobbed at every turn, I might have thought harder about signing on for this series.” 

“And pass up the opportunity?” Jaime leaned back in his chair as Sansa and Arya returned, setting their fare on the table before retaking their chairs. “That’s just sheer blasphemy” he took Sansa’s hand in his once she was in her chair beside him, twining their fingers together. He had been on cloud-nine since the doctor’s office this morning, hardly able to wrap his mind around the fact that Sansa was pregnant. _His Sansa, his baby._ He somehow knew in his gut that she was indeed pregnant, before they confirmed it, but it was still so miraculous, so incredible that he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“That’s right,” Arya said as she grabbed a lemon cake. “They’d told me you signed on but not to which character in _The Kingslayer Saga_.” 

“Oh?” Asha smirked, her short dark hair falling over her shoulder as she faced Arya. 

“Are you that dragon bitch?” 

“Oh no” Asha chuckled. “I’m Val.”

“Val,” Arya froze. “Val the Free Folk huntress?”

“Yes.” 

“Gods that’s hot” Arya snorted. 

“I will be the envy of the world--for a few minutes anyway” Asha laughed. 

“Oh fuck, yeah! I forgot about that scene” Arya laughed. 

“Not many women can say they’ve shared a bath with and groped Jaime Lannister” Asha teased. “Below the water of course.” 

“I can” Sansa laughed triumphantly, grabbing herself a lemon cake. 

“Ew, San! TMI!” 

“Listen,” Sansa deadpanned. “Don’t hate the player, Ya-Ya.” 

“I daresay your bath with him was more enjoyable than mine will be, my poor Free Folk heart will be rebuffed over and over” Asha said dramatically. “There’s only one Jonquil for Barristan. Besides, he’s not my type.” 

“You might want to read the other books” Arya snarked. “Especially if you’re Val.” 

“I must have given myself away, I’ve only recently finished the first one.” 

"It's alright, there's plenty of time" Sansa assured her. "And if you need help, you know where to find me" she added with a laugh.

“And what is your type?” Arya asked, amusement in her eyes. 

“Female. Shorter, darker hair, Northern maybe” Asha made a show of thinking it over. “And much more mechanically inclined.” 

“I know someone who fits that description” Arya raised her glass. “I’ll introduce you sometime.” 

“You do that” Asha countered and Jaime felt Sansa’s hand give his a squeeze. This was definitely going better than anticipated, not that he should be surprised, the Stark Sisters were very charming after all.

“Unless, of course, you decide Potato here is your type after all” Arya teased, relaxing in her chair. 

“Not a chance,” Asha laughed. “Not to mention I won’t be their envy long, ‘Daddy Jaime’ is sure to steal the spotlight away from even _The Kingslayer Saga_. Fangirls everywhere will have shattered hearts, crying into their Barristan Selmy pillow cases.” 

“Jaime--” Sansa’s eyes went wide.

“He didn’t tell me, I figured it out on my own,” Asha explained. “Every time you walk by him, he touches your stomach and gets this gooey expression on his face.”

“I gave myself away, Stark” Jaime raised their joined hands to kiss the back of hers. 

“Oh” Sansa’s cheeks went a delightful shade of pink. “It’s new, it still hasn’t really settled in.” 

“I am sure it will when you’re as big as a house and demanding egg rolls every twenty minutes like Mom did” Arya snarked. 

“Oh Gods” Sansa laughed. “I have never seen anyone as afraid as Dad was when he ate the leftovers and Mom hunted him down. Gods that woman was terrifying on a good day, her entire pregnancy with Rickon was just...”

“Freddy Kruger on steroids?” Arya added and Asha laughed. “We’re not close with our family,” Arya explained. “We’re the black sheep, so to speak. We do our best to leave them be and visit only on necessary holidays.” 

“Nothing wrong with that, my Brother and I don’t get on with our Father but we’re still close to our Uncle” Asha explained. “Sometimes you find your own family.” 

“Exactly” Sansa agreed. “Though I have already decided to adopt Jaime’s parents as my own.”

“What about me?” Arya pouted.

“You’re too wild” Jaime quipped and Arya made a face. 

“Joanna and Tywin will be here in the next fortnight or so to film the Lionel Selmy flashback scene and I will be showing Jo downtown Hornwood and all its fabulous antique stores” Sansa smiled. “You can come with us.” 

“Shopping?” Arya’s face twisted into a grimace. “Fine, but only because you need a bodyguard!” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Cersei shows up too,” Jaime added. 

“Cersei Lannister--fashion guru and society maven, here in the North?” Asha made a sound akin to a snort. “That’s a sign of the second coming, isn’t it?” 

“Right up there with Asha Greyjoy playing a romantic lead” Jaime smirked, raising his glass in mock salute. 

“Oh shut up, Lannister” she laughed, raising her glass in turn, all of them laughing along. 

“I’ve missed this bed” Jaime sighed as he climbed in beside her. “This is the best bed, I swear. It’s a damned cloud.” 

“I have too” Sansa agreed, snuggling close to him as soon as he was settled. “Home at last.” It was a little odd to be back in her own bedroom and home after so long staying in the South, but it was exactly what she needed after all of the chaos of working. For the next few moons they would be able to live in her secluded home in the woods, traveling into Hornwood for the day’s set as needed and returning home each night. 

“Dinner went well” Jaime chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, one of his hands automatically settling over her lower stomach even though there was nothing there yet to feel. “Though Arya and Asha hitting it off wasn’t the highlight of my day” he kissed her shoulder. She hadn’t seen the need to bother with pajamas since she was sure that Jaime would do away with them as soon as he could anyway. 

“Nor mine” she whispered, putting a hand over his where it sat against her stomach. “We’re going to have a baby.” 

“We are,” he replied softly, nuzzling her shoulder. “You are absolutely stuck with me, Stark.” 

“So it seems, Ditto.” 

“All a part of my sinister long-term plan” she felt his smile against her bare skin. 

“Oh, I’m so sure,” she snarked. 

“My Mom lost her mind. I’ve never seen her lose it like that.” 

“She did, it was pretty adorable actually” Sansa said and then frowned. “My parents are going to lose their shit when they find out too, but not in a good way. Just so you know.” 

“That’s fine, Grandma Jo and Papa Tywin will make up for it in spoiling, I am sure” he offered. “We can always send Melisandre after them, she will terrify them into silence.” 

“True” Sansa was quiet for several minutes, then her eyes welled up with tears. “We’re going to have a baby” a soft sob broke free, her heart overflowing to the point that she couldn’t contain it anymore. 

“Yes we are,” Jaime’s arms tightened around her, holding her wrapped in his embrace as she cried. 

It all seemed to hit her at once, the heady realization that deep within her being there was a new life blooming into existence. Half her and half Jaime, the man she loved more than anything in this world--a man that had come into her life with a ‘bang’ and now she couldn’t imagine living without him. 

Her life had changed entirely from the moment the movie studio came knocking at her door. She had gone from being a best-selling author to a woman in the constant spotlight; she was now the girlfriend of ‘Westeros’ Sexiest Man Alive’ and working every day with some of the biggest names in Hollywood. And now, in a few short months--probably just before the first movie premiered, they would be a family, welcoming a little one of their own. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to meet their baby.

Gathering herself she turned in his embrace, wiggling so that their fronts were pressed together. From the dim light coming in through the window she could see that Jaime’s eyes were just as bright with happiness, his crooked smile reminding her of the goofy expression of happiness that he’d had on their first ice cream ‘date’. This man had been the spark, the start of the fire that changed everything in the best possible way. He had charged into her relatively quiet existence and given it life. Figuratively and literally. 

“I love you so much” Jaime whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“I love you too,” she closed the distance to take his lips in a kiss that spoke of her desperation for him. Jaime’s hands splayed wide on her bare back, the touch sending a shiver of anticipation through her and she arched closer. Parting her lips, Jaime’s tongue delved deeper, to devour her. Sansa fell into his kiss, losing herself to their passionate--if unique celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #DoItForEdd 
> 
> I wanted to make a picset for this chapter, but it would have had massive spoilers--next time ;) 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Don't forget about the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)!


	18. Part 18: Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're saying--'Another update? Wow Red, you spoil us!' LOL! jkjk. This chapter absolutely spilled out in a short amount of time because I knew exactly how I wanted to do it (you'll see)! So, without further ado....here's some more fluff. Your dentists will thank me for all of this tooth-rotting goodness. No really, the whole story is just a fluff-machine.
> 
> And oh look! Another [PICSET](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/636067422888247296/adaptation-au-modern-in-which-sansas-life/) for you! Thank you all, truly, for all of your love and support. I am so happy that you're enjoying this. Again, thank you to BirdeBee for trusting me with your brain child. 
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is something I do for fun. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors--they're all my own. :D :P Thank you for reading!

“He’s here” Jaime smirked as a small silver sedan pulled up to the security entrance for the set. 

“You’re like a kid at Christmas” Sansa laughed as Jaime took her hand, escorting her towards the gate. 

“He’s gonna shit himself” Tormund called after them and Sansa had to cover her mouth before she guffawed. Tormund never proved to be entertaining, it certainly made the long days filming battle scenes much more tolerable. Though she was absolutely certain that Tormund alone was responsible for several of Roose’s new grey hairs--the stunt coordinator was exasperated with Tormund’s antics more often than not. She was sure that the next time Tormund put his sword between his legs and pretended to ride it like a hobby horse, Roose was finally going to snap.

Today, however, there was no battle. They were filming Barristan and The Hound’s arrival in the Far North, where they were greeted by Mance Rayder and his men, it was awe-inspiring to watch. And because it was technically a ‘light day’ of filming, Jaime had ordered ‘lunch’ from The Hornwood Hotel under the heaviest of secrecy and with the absolute demand of a condition that Edd Tollet deliver it. 

Edd had no idea what he was walking into. 

“Holy fuck” Sansa heard Edd whisper as he emerged from the sedan. He wore his hotel uniform shirt and a knit cap to ward off the cold, but it was his expression that stole the show. He was watching Jaime with wide eyes, the paparazzi behind him going insane with anticipation. Because of the press, Jaime had shed his armor and anything that could have been a major spoiler before going to the gate.

“Edd! You made it!” Jaime called out in greeting and the cameras went wild--finally, a glimpse at the Edd behind the trending hashtag. 

“Y-yeah, I guess I did,” Edd lamely held up the paper bag. “Delivery?” 

“Sure” Jaime laughed but before he could take the bag, Sandor and Tormund swooped in to claim it for themselves, carrying it back towards catering. “Now that that is sorted, I am pleased to inform you that you have the rest of the day off. Cley will park your car” he motioned to the driver. “And once you don these, we’ll get started” he finished as Podrick thrust a ‘VIP’ badge and _Kingslayer Saga_ jacket into Edd’s hands.

“Wait...what?” Edd gaped. “Started?”

“Is he going to faint again?” Little Jon quipped, elbowing Jon--Littler Jon with a smile. The two bodyguards had formed a close camaraderie from the first, both Jons making maneuvering through crowds and mobs much easier.

“Consider it a ‘thank you’ from Alayne and I” Jaime stepped closer as he explained. “You could have made a mint on the information trusted to you, but you didn’t. Not to mention you’ve been the source of one of the top ten hashtags for months. We wanted to surprise you, so today you will spend the afternoon receiving a tour of the set, check out some of the armor and meet the rest of the cast--well, you already saw Mance and The Hound as they made off with my cheesesteak” Jaime frowned. 

“Oh my Gods!” Edd exclaimed. “Wow! That’s--wow! Thank you! Thank you so much!” 

“Come on” Sansa smiled. “Let’s get started.” 

“Yeah!” Edd nodded and Cley slid into his sedan, piloting it away. Edd pulled on his badge and new jacket, pausing only to admire the sigil embroidered on the back. With a nod to the Jons and security, Edd stepped into the world of _The Kingslayer Saga_. 

Jaime held onto Sansa’s hand as they led Edd through their impromptu tour. He did his best to explain the green screens and other set pieces that would help with special effects, and introduced Edd to any cast member that happened by. Pretty soon he began to feel like Ebenezer Scrooge on his Christmas parade through town, waving and yammering on. 

When they reached the cast rest area he spotted Sandor and Tormund, empty food containers at their feet and smug expressions on their faces. 

“You ate my lunch, you jackasses” Jaime snarked at the pair. Sandor was clad now in partial armor, likely resting between takes, and Tormund was in the sweats and thermal he wore under all of the furs they would wrap him in. 

“Oh, fuck off” Sandor grumbled. 

“He is the perfect Hound” Edd marvelled. “The scars look fantastic!”

“It was really delicious, if that helps!” Tormund offered.

“You must be _the_ Edd” Sandor chuckled. 

“Oh the hashtag!” Tormund exclaimed. “The mystery is solved!” 

“Yeah” Edd laughed, shifting nervously on his feet. “That’s me.” 

“Enjoying your tour?” Sandor asked. 

“Oh yeah! This is just...the best day ever!” Edd nodded. 

“We’re not done yet,” Jaime nodded to where Stannis was tapping his watch. “Stick with Alayne, we have to gear up.” 

“Like...armor?” Edd asked. 

“Yup” Jaime nodded. “You’re good with spoilers, so I figure you’d like to stay a bit and look on while we film some banter.” 

“Oh my Gods--I am gonna faint...or puke,” Edd laughed. “That would be incredible!” 

“Then come with me,” Sansa smiled. Jaime stole a quick kiss before she led Edd away, moving to the audio stations to get him gear he would need to hear the dialogue. Jaime watched her talking with Edd for a few minutes, the young man hanging on every word she spoke. The days were long and exhausting, but seeing the awe and happiness on Edd’s face was a good reminder that what they were doing here was going to change a lot of lives forever. 

Including his own. His life would be forever marked by the saga and by Sansa--and not just because she carried their baby. 

A smile formed on his lips, just as it did every time he thought about the baby--one that already had Sansa dressing in baggier clothing ‘just in case’. Jaime couldn’t wait for the baby to come--even though the idea of childbirth still terrified him. He didn’t want to see Sansa in pain, the only reason it would be worth it was because at the end of it all, they’d be able to hold their baby. 

He’d never given much thought to being a Father, but then again he’d never given much thought to settling down before Sansa came into his life. Now marriage and babies seemed to always be dancing in the back of his mind. Not that he would voice that aloud. 

“Hey, you gonna gear up or eye-fuck your girl all day?” Sandor grunted out as two men helped him into his breastplate. 

“Yeah, yeah” Jaime laughed, pulling his eyes away from Sansa to get back to work. “And you owe me a damn cheesesteak!”

“Cut! Reset, we’ll go again!” Stannis called out and Sansa looked over at the young man at her side, smiling at his rapt stare. 

“Doing alright?” 

“Yeah!” he nodded. “This is...I can’t wait to brag about this,” he said excitedly. “When you guys made the announcement and I shared my picture, my Instagram just exploded. Now I have more followers than I know what to do with.” 

“The same thing happened to mine,” she replied with a conspiratory smile. “I think that is the ‘Jaime Lannister Effect’.”

“Probably” Edd agreed. “There was this meet-up a few months back; all of _The Kingslayer Saga_ fans here in the North got together and I was overwhelmed. People I don’t even know knew my name-- _my name_! They even knew my cat’s name!! I’m just a waiter!”

“Never say you’re ‘just’ anything,” she encouraged him. “Besides, you’re #DoItForEdd! Friend of the Kingslayer!”

“Yeah” he nodded, puffing out his chest. “I guess I am.” 

“Darn straight” she nodded, pulling her phone from her jacket pocket. She looped her arm through Edd’s and leaned in. “Now lean close and try to look happy.” 

“What? Oh, that won’t be hard” he leaned in and Sansa snapped a selfie of them together, the edges of the _The Kingslayer Saga_ sigil on their jackets just peeking in. Checking the background to make sure it didn’t have spoilers or anything absurd, she typed a quick caption, tagged Edd’s account and posted it. 

“There” she showed him the result. ‘ _Another day of Kingslaying…. We #DoItForEdd #EddBTW #Kingslayer_.’ 

“That’s so cool!” Edd beamed. “You know, I made this thing, since we hadn’t had any other cast or pictures revealed,” he pulled his phone from the pocket of his slacks. “But check this out” he scrolled through his photos until he reached one, turning it to her. 

“Oh wow” Sansa smiled, taking in the painstaking detail that had been put into the photo. 

“I haven’t posted it yet--I mean, I’m not sure if it’s any good or not,” he explained shyly.

“It’s perfect, Edd” Sansa said, and she genuinely meant it. Originally it had been the photo of Jaime in his Barristan armor, doing his best to relax between takes with her wrapped in his arms as he kissed her forehead. He had wrapped her in his cloak, both of them letting the world fall away as they waited. Jaime, of course, had posted it on social media and now…

“It didn’t really take that much work either” Edd explained, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Your hair and everything worked perfectly, all I did was remove the equipment, add the circlet, and change your jeans to a dress. Boom; Barriastan and Jonquil.” 

“Jaime is going to lose his mind,” Sansa laughed and a plan began to form in her mind. “Would you email it to me?” 

“Sure” he nodded, happy to oblige. “You just have to give credit when you post it,” he added and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Deal” she agreed as Stannis called for action a second time, pulling their attention back to the actors. While they watched, Edd’s arm stayed looped with hers and she could feel him tense as Mance and Barristan exchanged words. 

That quiet moment, for her, was so incredibly rewarding. Against her Mother’s expectations and without much support beyond Arya, she had poured her heart into _The Kingslayer Saga_ and by the grace of the Gods, there were here today as it all came to life. 

And not only that, but tonight when the work was over, she would go home with the man she loved and the child she carried. And that in and of itself was pretty damned worth every ounce of stress.

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_“Kingslayer” the familiar voice called out to him and Barristan turned to face its owner. “Fancy a spar?”_

_“Just a spar?” he countered, stepping closer._

_“I figure if I ask if ye ‘fancy a fuck’, I’d be rejected” she replied. “Again.”_

_“That’s true enough” he countered effortlessly. Since the moment he’d taken up residence in Mance Rayder’s lands, Val the Huntress had set her sights upon him. Apparently while slaying a King had made him an outcast in the South, it had made him very popular in the Far North._

_Much to his unending chagrin._

_Where Jonquil had been all elegance and fire, Val was a haunted sort of figure with piercing blue eyes and hair as dark as midnight. She dressed like a man--worse actually, looking more haggard and filthy than any had a right to, but her mouth seemed to be working non-stop without issue. She was handsome enough he supposed, but not enough to tempt him from the memory of the woman he’d buried in the capitol._

_“She must have been a hell of a fuck” Val smiled smugly as Barristan entered the make-shift practice arena towards the center of Mance’s encampment. They had garnered the attention of a few others by now, but he pushed their stares aside._

_“She was a hell of a Lady” Barristan coolly corrected, though his hackles had risen at the thought of reducing Lady Jonquil to something as base as slaking a need born from lust. Jonquil was far more than that, she always would be--though this could be an ill-begotten attempt to upset him before they sparred. While The Hound had settled into the course and rougher way of life in the Far North, it had taken Barristan much longer to grow used to their ‘courtly’ manners. He would never understand--truly understand their community dynamic here._

_”Did she fight, this Lady of yours?” Val asked, pulling her broadsword from the sheath at her back._

_“She did” Barristan reasoned, pulling his own golden sword free. “Though not with any edged weapon.”_

_“A bow then?” Val offered. “I am quite skilled with a bow myself, you know.”_

_“Her mind,” he replied._

_“One of those” Val raised her brows and Barristan frowned. This woman had no shortage or confidence or arrogance, that was certain._

_“You’ve spent your life in the Far North, you cannot comprehend the limits and expectations placed on those who attend court in the city” he explained._

_“Nor should I” Val shrugged. “I am a Free Folk, a Free Woman--a warrior” she declared as she spun her blade with a deft flick of the wrist. Such an act could have intimidated a greener man, but Barristan had seen this sort of pomp and circumstance many times before. “I control my own destiny, not some King or Queen.”_

_“Oh?” Barristan raised a challenging brow with a smile. “Then come, show me your Free ways, Warrior” he taunted. The Huntress hesitated for only a second, but that was all it took for her movements to be telegraphed to his trained eye. She advanced with her blade raised and was immediately rebuffed, a swift, hard perry from Barristan’s blade sent her to her knees, her sword splashing to the snow beside her._

_“You cheat--” her words were silenced when the tip of his sword came to rest beneath her chin. He stared down at her for several seconds, basking in the fury that seethed from her every pore._

_“And who controls your destiny now, Free Woman?” he raised the blade, forcing her to meet his eyes. An unspoken conversation passed between them, and he dropped his sword. “We go again.”_

She’d held off on making the call for as long as she could. The fear that had initially pulled at the back of her mind was close to blowing up into full-blown anxiety and she couldn’t put it off any longer. 

As of today she was well-into her second trimester and growing fast. At just over fourteen weeks now, the surreal concept of being pregnant was giving way to the reality that was now evident in the slight swell of her stomach. Or as Jaime called it, ‘their baby bump’. He still had a problem with reaching out to touch it and while at home he was constantly pulling her close, claiming that he wanted ‘baby-time’ too. It was so incredibly heartwarming that she would always have to fight back tears. 

They had told Stannis a fortnight ago, knowing that as the director of the saga, it was only fair that he be ‘in the know’ regarding something that involved not only his leading actor but the author as well. Stannis had been understanding, grateful that they chose to inform him, and offered to help regarding the shooting schedule and fitting in doctor’s appointments so that Jaime could be there with her.

Sometime this week they would break the news to the world at large, and while she didn’t know exactly how they were going to do it, she did know that Jaime had been plotting it for quite a while. Between googling in secret and ordering something online under Jon’s name that he absolutely refused to let her see, he was more than prepared for ‘reveal day’. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so damned adorable. Little did he know, she had a plan of her own-complete with coconspirator. 

She checked the time and discerned that she only had about a half an hour until Jon and Jaime returned from set. Though they hadn’t known each other long, Jon and Jaime were already thick as thieves. Once his service was done at The Wall he found a small house nearby to rent and traded his fatigues for a more casual uniform. It hadn’t taken much to sort out the details of Jon working full-time as her bodyguard--though really he guarded them both most days alongside Little Jon. 

Arya thought she was being hilarious in buying Jon a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses ‘for effect’. Jon wore them for irony sake alone. 

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked her phone and dialed the familiar--if rarely used number. It rang once, twice, and then…

“Sansa, what a surprise to hear from you” her Mother’s voice sounded through the line. 

“Hi, it’s been a while” she said, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “How is everyone?” 

“We’re just fine, as we always are,” Catelyn replied. “You’ve been busy, I see. Nice of you to tell me that you were seeing someone.”

“Jaime, yeah, he’s--” 

“It’s ‘yes’, darling” Catelyn corrected. “Not ‘yeah’. Your breeding is better than ‘yeah’.”

“Of course” Sansa exhaled. “Is Dad there? I have something to tell you both” a shuffling sounded on the line. 

“I’m here Lemon Cake,” her Father’s gentle voice came on the line. She had always been closer with her Father than her Mother, perhaps because he pushed no unrealistic expectations upon her. 

“Hi Daddy,” she almost smiled, nerves bubbling in her veins. 

“How’s the movie coming along?” he asked. 

“Good, really good” she replied. “It’s been crazy but incredible. I think it’s going to be Stannis’ shining glory.” 

“All because of those silly books?” Catelyn sighed in exasperation. “It seems so absurd--” 

“They’re not silly” Sansa replied, just as she had a hundred times before.

“They’re actually quite good,” her Father added and her heart stopped. 

“You read them?” Sansa gasped.

“I did,” he confirmed. “When the movies came out, I wanted to be able to say ‘the book was better’--” 

“Really Ned” Catelyn tsked and Sansa could almost see her Mother waving her hand to shoo the words away. 

“Right, well the reason I called is to tell you before the news broke to the rest of the world,” she took a steeling breath. “We’re pregnant. Jaime and I are going to have a baby.” 

“What?”

“Oh, Lemon Cake--” 

“But you're not married!” her Mother screeched her harpy’s call. 

“No, we’re not married,” Sansa said. 

“And are you _getting_ married?” 

“Maybe someday, but we’re not going to before the baby comes” Sansa reasoned. “Shooting schedule is tight and then press and what not. I want to be able to enjoy my wedding day, not rush through it for propriety's sake.” 

“Well” Catelyn huffed. “I suppose we should be grateful you told us and didn’t let us find out through rag sheets and gossip like you usually do. Such poor form--” 

“Right” she cleared her throat, rapidly losing her grip on her emotions. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I will let you go--” a shuffle and then a click, ending the call. “Right,” she repeated to the empty room, lowering her phone to her lap. 

In truth it had gone better than she’d expected, Catelyn hadn’t screamed at the top of her lungs like she usually did, but her Mother’s actions still stung. That was why she had left the set early today, to make the call in private and spare Jaime from the poison that she knew all too well could spill from her Mother’s lips. 

Setting her phone on the edge of the bed where she sat, she placed her hands over ‘their baby bump’, anchoring herself in the unexpected blessing that she’d been gifted. Attempting to let the negative seep from her mind, she was interrupted when her phone rang out it’s shrill tone into the empty room. A glance at the screen she was surprised to see her Father’s cell-phone number and quickly answered the call. 

“Hello?” 

“Lemon Cake” she could hear the smile in his voice and it almost broke her resolve. 

“I’m not sorry” she blurted. “I’m really happy actually, and I knew that she wasn’t going to approve. I am not asking her to--” 

“I know,” he soothed. “I know she is difficult. I know that is why you and Arya have estranged yourself from her. I’ve tried to reason with her for thirty years, there’s nothing for it.” 

“Arya and I did what we had to for self-preservation,” Sansa explained. “And we’re the happier for it.” 

“I know,” he agreed. “This Jaime, he’s a good man?” 

“The best,” she replied. “This isn’t some fling or fly-by-night thing, this is _it_ , Daddy.” 

“Then I am happy for you” he said, his words genuine and sincere. “If I may, perhaps you could text me--or even call if you like, keep me updated?” 

“I will” she nodded, tears escaping her eyes. “I will do that.”

“Just give me a few days to come to terms with the fact that I am old enough to be a Grandfather now,” he teased and she gave a watery laugh, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. 

“Deal.” 

“I’ll talk to you soon then” he said softly. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will, goodbye” she replied, ending the call once he’d said his goodbyes. Setting the phone back on the bed, she allowed herself a few minutes of crying--this time more relief than anything, before she went to the master bathroom to wash her face. A quick brush of her hair, she tamed it into a loose plait over one shoulder, tying it off with a band as the front door burst open. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaime called out just as he always did. 

“Bedroom” she answered and a moment later he appeared in the door. In casual jeans and a sweater he looked just as delicious as he did in armor and suddenly she wanted to climb him like a tree. 

Oh, hormones, right … _precious, we wants him, we needs him._

“Gods, you get more and more beautiful each and everyday” he crossed the room. “Now come here, I need baby time.” 

“You’re ridiculous” she laughed as he pulled her into his embrace. She snuggled into his arms, drinking in the scent that could only be described as ‘Jaime’. “I missed you, Ditto.” 

“It’s weird not having you on set with me but you’ll be back tomorrow” he replied. “How did the afternoon go? You called them?” 

“Yes,” she said. “Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. My Dad called me after, so that was nice.” 

“Good” Jaime stole a kiss. “I can’t wait ‘till we’re alone” he whispered. 

“Throw Jon out and we can go to bed early” she replied, sliding her hands under the hem of his sweater to trace his bare back. 

“No can do” his answering smile was devastating. “Because today’s _the day_.” 

“Wait? What? Oh! It is?” 

“It is,” he nodded. “We’re into the second trimester, doctor confirmed everything looks great and everyone who needed to know, already knows--including Shae and Mel.” 

“I guess that means that the big day is here.”

“Jon and Arya are in the kitchen, they’re going to help,” Jaime explained. "Pod is handling dinner--pizza of course, to celebrate." 

“Arya is here?” 

“Yeah, I called her on the way, she showed up as we were parking.” 

“You called my Sister?” she laughed. 

“Well, yeah” Jaime smirked. “Jon can’t take a good picture to save his life, I need her eye for it.” 

“You’ve got this all planned out, haven’t you?” 

“Yes,” he scoffed. “Listen Stark, I am going to be a _Dad_. The woman I love is carrying my child and that’s pretty damned wonderful” he explained and she felt tears well up in her eyes. She was getting pretty damned tired of the waterworks, that’s for sure. 

“I love you, you know that?” she whispered. 

“I had an inkling, yeah” he kissed the tip of her nose. “I have something important to ask you,” he paused. “Sansa Stark, will you troll social media with me?” he asked, repeating the words he’d asked her on the night of their first dinner together. 

“Alright, Ditto” she laughed. “Let’s do this.” 

“This is seriously the most basic shit that I have ever witnessed--” 

“Ya-Ya,” Sansa sighed. 

“It's cheesy and cute, and we’re doing it. So stop arguing,” Jaime insisted. He knew it was over the top, but he was determined to do everything one-hundred percent.

“ _You’re_ cheesy, Jacket,” Arya countered with a scoff, shaking her head. 

“Damn right I am, I’m going to be a Dad and I am pretty excited about that, so can you please help me a little here?” he explained and felt Sansa shift closer to his side. Jaime had been frothing at the bit since they’d first confirmed her pregnancy and finally the day had arrived….reveal day. 

“Fine” Arya agreed. 

“This is it, the ultimate troll” he grabbed the box from the patio table and opened it to grab the tiny pair of shoes from inside. They were simple--what did he really know about baby fashion, but they had tiny little lions on the side, so they seemed pretty perfect. 

“Oh Gods, Jaime” Sansa’s hands covered her mouth. 

“Damn Jacket, you don’t mess around” Arya laughed, Jon joining her. 

“No I do not” he agreed. “I didn’t go with pink or blue--that is a troll for another time” he explained to Sansa. “But I figured this is perfect.” 

“They are” Sansa nodded in agreement, reaching out to touch the soft fabric of the shoe. “They’re so tiny.” 

“Well, they’re for babies, Stark” he replied dryly. 

“What’s your big plan for these?” she asked. 

“I hold them” he hooked his fingers into the heel of each one, letting them dangle down.

“Hold them? That’s it?” 

“Yeah” he nodded. “It's that simple.” 

“Okay, but to be clear I didn’t get pregnant for Edd” she snarked and Jaime couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Good,” he replied. “That reminds me, I still have to get you back for that selfie with him.” 

“Oh, like commenting ‘should I be jealous?’ on the photo wasn’t troll enough?”

“Not by far” he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Ready, Ya-Ya?”

“Ready Jacket” Arya lifted the camera. A few poses and clicks later, Arya handed Jaime the phone to review and sank onto the chair beside Jon, opening them each a beer. 

“These are perfect” he said, swiping through them as his smile grew. “There it is” he showed the photo to Sansa. It really was perfect--who knew that Ya-Ya knew how to work ‘portrait mode’ like that? Damn, she’d even managed to work in the string of lights on the back patio and the forest beyond. He and Sansa were standing together, his arm around her and her forehead resting against the side of his jaw. Her eyes were closed but he was looking down and the tiny pair of shoes hanging from his index and middle fingers. You wouldn’t notice them at first glance, but once you did the message was pretty clear. 

“I love it” Sansa agreed and he sent them all to her. “What will your caption be?” 

“You’ll see” he nodded as she pulled her phone from her pocket. “What about you?”

“You’ll see” she scrunched her nose adorably and quickly typed. 

“Same time?” he asked and she nodded. 

“Yeah.” 

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded a second time.

“Ready.” 

“3...2...1,” he counted down and they hit ‘post’ at the same time. 

“And the crowd goes wild” Jon chuckled, clinking his beer bottle against Arya’s in celebration.

“ _If you look closely, there’s two generations of Lannister in this photo…#ComingSoon #SorryEdd #ShesAllMine #TheyBothAre #KingslayerBabyWatch #StartsNow_ ” Sansa read aloud as she liked his photo post, her heart clenching. “Very romantic, Ditto.” 

“What can I say, I am a romantic guy,” he sank into a chair and accepted a beer from Arya. It should be strange how easily he had meshed with her Sister and Jon, but it wasn’t. “How long before it's viral?” he mused, guiding Sansa to sit across his lap so he could wrap his arms around her. As always, his hand settled over her stomach, the swell just enough to fill his curved hand and send a sense of peace through her. 

“It already has several thousand likes” Jon added, idly scrolling through his phone. “Damn San, you threw it down” he laughed, having reached the photo that she had posted. 

“What?” Jaime asked. “What did she write?”

“You’re not the only one who likes to troll” Sansa giggled to herself, unlocking her screen so he could see. Jaime’s jaw dropped, eyes wide as he realized that she hadn’t posted the photo he did, but had gone with another--much more special photo.

 _“My current project; the Littlest Lannister… #NowHesStuckWithMe #WhichImOKWith #AndSoIsHe #Kingslayer #MyBarristan #EditbyEdd #Eddit_ ” he read with an awed smile. “San...” his throat worked as he swallowed, eyes suspiciously bright.

“Edd’s pretty handy with photoshop” Sansa smiled, pushing back emotions of her own. “He gave me permission to use it, though he didn’t know what I was going to say along with it.”

“That’s...that’s perfect,” Jaime agreed, marveling at the fanart that Edd had made from the photo of her and Jaime together on set. There before his eyes were Barristan and Jonquil, Jaime and her, together. “Alright, I will admit it; today you beat me at my own game, Stark.” 

“Damned right I did” she laughed, stealing a quick kiss and a glance at her notifications---Gods that was a big number, before tucking her phone away. She relaxed against his chest, snuggling close and his arms around her gave a gentle squeeze. 

“Well played, Stark” he said against her hair, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’m gonna call it ‘Tater Tot’,” Arya interjected with a giggle.

“Ya-Ya--” 

“Just until we know the gender” Arya assured her. “Then I will think of something else.”

“You say ‘we’ like it’s your baby” Sansa quipped. 

“Oh it’s ‘our’ baby” she motioned to all of them. “First Stark Grandbaby, first Lannister Grandbaby--my first niece or nephew potato. We’re all in this together.” 

“Lovely” Jaime chuckled. “You’ve turned us into a commune.”

“Think of it this way, Baby Daddy Jacket” Arya reasoned. “It is my duty as ‘Auntie Ya-Ya’ to spoil my Sister’s baby, you’re just along for the ride.” 

“I hope it's a girl,” Sansa said softly, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“Yeah?” he turned to kiss her forehead. “Yeah, you know what? Me too.” 

“You two are gross” Arya smacked Jon’s leg. “We’re going to start dinner, give you two a moment of grossness to yourselves” she declared, the two heads of dark hair heading towards the house. 

“No need, Pod will be here soon with a huge stack of pizza--actually he will probably have Sandor and Tormund with him too” Jaime called after them. “You can make us all celebratory drinks though.” 

“Consider it done!” Arya shouted.

“Much appreciated” Jaime laughed as she and Jon ducked inside. “Finally, alone at last.”

“Do you really want a girl?” Sansa asked softly. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Cersei is older--by twelve minutes and she never lets me forget it, but she was a protective older sister.”

“She still is, I’d say” Sansa mused. 

“In her own way” Jaime agreed. “What is the bet that she will be with Mom and Dad when they show up this weekend?” he wondered aloud. He had been surprised when Cersei stayed in King’s Landing during their parents’ first trip North, but a large show and editorial had kept her chained to her desk. Now that Tywin and Joanna were venturing back for a very long weekend--which included a little work since they had to finalize the forest scene together, he was pretty sure Cersei was going to tag along--at least for a little while. 

“99% certain she will,” Sansa agreed. “Now that the reveal is done, I am definitely going to need to take Littler Jon with me when we shop.” 

“Little Jon, Littler Jon, and Me” Jaime corrected. 

“Fine” she conceded, though reluctantly. 

“You alright?” he asked, looking down at her as she raised her head to meet his eyes. “Your parents…?”

“I’m alright” she nodded. “My Mother was as expected but at least my Dad at least tried, ya know?” 

“Yeah” he replied. “Well, I am sure that Mom will more than make up for it. She sends texts every day to tell me about the things she’s bought or the items from my infancy she’s unearthed to bring to us.” 

“Really?” Sansa laughed. “Your Mom is incredible.” 

“She’s our Mom now,” he kissed her temple. “While I am sure your Mother balked at us not being married, for mine it is a foregone conclusion. I am going to marry you someday, Sansa Stark, no doubt about it.” 

“You have to ask me first, Ditto” she teased. 

“I will” he held her tight. “Eventually. One thing at a time.” 

“First comes baby, then comes marriage?” she laughed, snuggling under his chin. 

“First comes---” 

“Hey! Jacket!” Arya yelled as she stormed out the back door. Sansa turned to watch her and noticed that Tormund and Sandor were in the kitchen, laughing hysterically with Pod and Jon. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaime asked.

“What’s your Sister’s phone number?” Arya snapped her fingers several times. “Give it. Now.” 

“What?” Jaime stared in confusion as she approached, not stopping until she shoved her phone in his face. “W-what---hahaha” his words melted into laughter at the selfie of Cersei wearing a very couture, very sparkly ‘World’s Best Aunt’ sweater while holding her signature glass of wine. She looked perfect, as always, her expression smug as sin as she pointed to the shirt. Clearly she had waited for ‘reveal day’ to post this.

“Oh--now that is funny,” Sansa hid her laughter in his neck

“Her and I need to have a little chat about her wearing _my_ sweater,” Arya pointed to the screen. 

“This sounds like it will involve hair-pulling” Sansa muttered.

“Why Ya-Ya, are you asking for my Sister’s number?” Jaime quipped and it was everything she could do not to burst into hysterics herself. 

“Jacket, I swear on the Old Gods…” Arya was practically seething now. 

“Just wait, she’ll probably be here this weekend” Jaime explained. “You two can duke it out in the driveway.”

“Oh really?” Arya stood tall, a smirk forming on her lips. “Well then” she waved her hand at them. “Carry on” she threw the words over her shoulder as she returned to the house. 

“They’re going to throw down,” Sansa whispered softly, then made the hissing noise of a feral cat. 

“Probably” Jaime agreed. “But it is going to be amazing to watch.”

“Absolutely” Sansa smiled against his neck. Jaime held her tight, both of them finding an incredible peace in each others’ arms, their baby safe within their embrace. “Ditto?” she whispered. 

“Hmm?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Stark-soon-to-be-Lannister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't forget about the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/) on discord!


	19. Part 19: Monologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Another chapter? Aye, 'tis true. Another long one at that. I suppose this is where I give you a tissue warning and I truly am sorry. If it helps, I broke myself too....
> 
> Since this is likely to be my last update on this story before the Christmas holiday, I would like to wish all of you who celebrate a safe and Merry Christmas! 
> 
> Again, thank you all for ALL of your love and support. I am so happy that you're enjoying this story, it has been a BLAST to write these two lovely, fluffy leads. And as always, thank you to BirdeBee for trusting me with your brain child. 
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is something I do for fun. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors--they're all my own. :D :P Thank you for reading!

“This isn’t working” Stannis stepped to where Jaime knelt on set, running a hand over his shortly shorn hair in frustration. While everything had been coming together quite well, today had been a struggle. Sansa could feel the tension in the air, knowing that everything hinged on Jaime’s acting skills today.

“I know, I’m sorry” Jaime replied, helping Myranda to sit before he stood, facing his director. They'd been at this for hours now and he couldn't get it _right_. Now his knees were probably sore from collapsing and she could tell he was exhausted. 

“It’s fine,” Stannis placed his hands on Jaime’s shoulders, resting them on the armor at his shoulders. “This scene is pivotal--it's the big one, it has to be perfect.” 

“I know,” Jaime nodded, obviously as frustrated as Stannis looked. 

“You really love her.” 

“I know, yeah.” 

“And now she’s gone.” 

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do” Stannis lowered his hands. “It’s just…flat. Your outward emotions are there but there is no connection. There is no depth.”

“I can do better, I am definitely getting closer” Jaime reasoned. They--he and Sansa, had talked about it at length in the car this morning. Knowing that today they would be filing this scene--the one between Barristan and Jonquil that would set the tone for the rest of the movie and series at large; the discovery of her murder. Jaime had been confident that he could get through it with ease, but Sansa could tell there was something missing. 

“You know, go get some coffee and let them touch up your makeup, I will send someone when we’re ready for you” Stannis instructed, stepping back. Jaime nodded, running a hand through his hair as he stepped towards her. “Sansa stays, I need to speak with her" Stannis' voice was cold enough to book no argument, even Sansa was taken aback at his vehemence. 

“Oh, alright” Jaime nodded, giving her a quick kiss before stepping out of the room. 

“Stannis” Sansa approached the director as he helped Myranda to her feet. 

“I have an idea,” Stannis said to both her and Myranda--Jonquil. “It’s risky--really risky, but I think it will work.” 

“What’s that?” Myranda asked, smoothing her skirts. Stannis turned to Sansa, his eyes impossible to read. 

“I think that Jaime’s problem is that he doesn’t love Myranda” Stannis reasoned and Sansa burst into laughter. 

“I don’t see that as a problem” she gave a brief smile to the actress beside her. “I rather appreciate that fact, no offense.” 

“None taken” Myranda laughed.

“No, I mean, he isn't in _love_ with her” Stannis repeated, raising his brows in expectation. It took a second, but eventually his meaning clicked in her mind. 

“Stannis, no--I am not an actress” Sansa protested, shaking her head. 

“Oh!” Myranda caught on then as well. “No, this could work!” 

“I agree” Stannis nodded to the starlet. 

“He’ll kill you” Sansa laughed weakly. 

“No,” Stannis shook his head. “He’ll want to kill the _Queen_.”

“I…I can’t,” Sansa swallowed, glancing around the room. All around them crew members were hard at work to ensure that the story’s pivotal incident came to fruition. Everything hinged on this...

“You just have to play opossum” Myranda chuckled. “It’s the easiest acting I’ve ever done. I'm the envy of the world, lay there in Jaime Lannister's arms. No offense” she quickly added.

"None taken" Sansa smiled weakly. 

“Sansa?” Stannis prompted. “You know how important this is. This scene changes everything, I need it to be powerful.”

“I know.”

“It’s vital—“

“Stannis--”

“We’ve been at this scene for three hours,” Stannis sighed. “We’ve done more takes of this scene so far than any other. Hell, we got the shots of Barristan and Lionel in record time considering Tywin has never acted before! That is the real emotion I need! If we don't so this, we’ll lose the light soon and another day if we wait. I think--I know, this is the best way.”

“You do know that in that dress I’ll be visibly pregnant” Sansa whispered, eyes briefly darting to Myranda’s gown. While her thick _The Kingslayer Saga_ jacket hid her stomach from sight now, she knew in anything remotely snug it was on full display. 

“We can fix it in post,” Stannis smirked. “Or I leave it in and let the fans lose their minds.” 

“You’re...you’re the Stranger” Sansa laughed. “That’s just evil!”

“I know” Stannis looked to Myranda. “Go to wardrobe, then go and distract Jaime in catering. We’ll need a bit of time” he looked back, examining Sansa’s hair which was fortunately styled into a loose bun today. “We won’t need a wig, just enough time for the dagger and to dress.” 

“Got it” Myranda did as she was told, scurrying away from the scene. 

“Pod” Stannis called out to where Jaime’s assistant was hard at work on his laptop in the corner. 

“Boss?” 

“Keep him busy” Stannis ordered and Podrick’s eyes went wide. 

“S-sure” he closed his laptop and hurried from the set.

“You know,” Sansa said, watching Pod go before looking back into Stannis’ sharp eyes. “When they said you were the director that did anything to get the shot, I never imagined this.” 

“I need to break Barristan’s heart,” he explained matter-of-factly. “And the only way I can do that is by chipping at Jaime’s.” 

“I understand,” she nodded, albeit reluctantly. “I don't like it, but I understand.” 

“I know you’re here to ensure the story’s integrity remains intact,” he continued. “But I promise you this now, Sansa, he touches your stomach at any point in his mourning, and _The Kingslayer_ baby becomes an unspoken reality” at his words she swallowed thickly, knowing that this scene really was going to change everything. 

“Alright” she whispered, giving her agreement to add another layer to the depths of betrayal Barristan experienced at the hands of the Targaryens. This one she couldn’t deny him. Gods forgive her. 

Jaime returned to the set after a rather lengthy conversation with Myranda in catering, the young woman talking his ear off, badgering him with questions about what to expect once the movie was out. After that, Pod had intercepted him with a slew of reminders about upcoming interviews and social media take-overs he had schedules. 

With a sigh he let them touch up his makeup and hair, anxious to be back at work and to get this over with. He knew today was going to be exhausting, emotional scenes always were, but he just couldn’t seem to connect with his co-star no matter how hard he tried. It was the way she felt in his arms--she felt foreign and odd. He wondered to himself if this is what it would have always felt like if he had been in a committed relationship—had been in love while filming romantic movies. The woman in his arms wasn’t the one he wanted and that seemed to make all the difference in the world. 

Still, he knew that he could do better. Be better. 

Entering the castle chamber that had become their set, he nodded to Stannis who quickly looked away. Jaime narrowed his eyes as he stood on his mark, unsure of how to take his director’s brush off. He knew that today had been rough, he didn’t realize how much he’d disappointed everyone with his performance. 

“Is Jonquil ready?” Stannis called out.

“Yeah!” someone returned but Jaime was too focused on getting into character. 

“Position Jaime” Stannis instructed and Jaime stretched his neck, waiting for Myranda to show. He would start standing and collapse beside Jonquil to mourn--which made him all the more thankful for the pads hidden on the stone floor. “Close your eyes.”

“What?” Jaime looked to his director in confusion. “Why?” 

“Trust me, Jaime” Stannis pleaded.

“Fine” he glanced around the set for Sansa but couldn’t spot her before he did as told, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths. 

“Imagine the scene, get your head into the emotions” Stannis encouraged. He heard movement beside him and felt the brush of Myranda’s skirts against his boots as she took position. A few crew members made sure everything was situated and then the set fell completely silent. "This is it, Jaime, the moment you find your Jonquil."

"Yeah, I can do this."

“Rolling,” Stannis said softly. “And….action.” 

Jaime opened his eyes, expecting to see Myranda lying prone in a pile of fake blood on the ground but instead of blue contact lenses he was met with the surprisingly blank stare of familiar blue eyes. Too familiar. 

He was met with his worst nightmare. 

“No” the word was not scripted but escaped his chest nonetheless. “No! No, no” the repeated curse was meant for Stannis but he said it while gaping at Sansa’s unmoving form. He took several heaving--ragged breaths, his eyes lingering on the dragon-scaled dagger that protruded from her chest to the blood that ran from her lips. This image was a nightmare that he never wanted to experience. 

_’This isn’t real’_ he tried to remind himself over and over. 

His legs gave out and he dropped to his knees beside her--beside _his_ Jonquil, his hand trembling as he brushed past the dagger to cup her cheek. Sansa did not move, her body limp as he gently pulled her across his thighs. The back of her far hand slapped against the stone floor, the sound echoing through him and breaking the last vestiges of control he had on his emotions. The walls between Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy cracked, emotions flooding through both simultaneously until everything was a blur. He brushed his fingers across her pale cheek, a sob escaping his body as he cradled her to his armored chest. 

“I am so sorry” he whispered. “I am so...so sorry” he kissed her forehead, eyes flooding with tears--real tears as skin touched his. One arm under her neck, the other banded around her waist, he hauled her closer still, inwardly cursing the armor that kept them apart. From pressing her to his heart and never letting her go.

_’This isn’t real.’_

While the dress had been designed to hug Myranda’s curves, it had not accounted for the one at _Sansa’s_ waist and he couldn’t stop his hand from pausing to cup it, a brief moment to remind his subconscious that this wasn’t real---despite how truly real it felt. There, beneath his hand was the small reminder of the world beyond this moment. Beyond this perceived nightmare.

Another broken sob and a ragged breath later, he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to hers, rocking them back and forth. His gloved hand cupped her face, thumb stroking the corner of her mouth, smearing the blood across her cheek. The script was only a phantom in the back of his mind, his body lost to the terror at seeing Sansa in Myranda’s place.

_’This isn’t real.’_

“Please,” he cried. “I love you...I’m so sorry” he rocked her closer, a limp arm falling over his as her head lolled back; that action broke him, guttural sobs escaping now. “Forgive me” he repeated over and over. “I have failed you, please...forgive me.” 

“Barristan---” the actor playing Commander Hightower entered stage left as directed, drawing up short at the sight before him. “What’s happened? I will send for a Maester--”

“It is too late for a Maester” he managed to choke out the line, his eyes blinded by tears as he lifted his forehead from hers. 

He played the scene with Hightower blindly, somehow reciting his dialogue even as it felt as if his soul had been ripped from his body. He pulled the dagger from her chest--one that would be adjusted by special effect, horrified when fake blood ran down her chest to her collarbone, pooling at the hollow of her throat. His hand genuinely shook as he moved her hair away from the blood in a weak attempt to keep them clean—pure, the locks falling like a curtain of fire to the stone floor. He swallowed but couldn’t stop the broken whimper from escaping. 

“I’ll see to her myself” he shifted to a foot and kept her close, lifting her into his arms as he stood. “No one touches her—no one but me” he blinked to clear his eyes, fixing Hightower with a furious glare. Carrying her limp body away, he heard Stannis call for a cut, but he didn’t stop. He carried her through the crew line, her arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders in the same moment her forehead pressed to his cheek. 

“I’m sorry” she whispered but he didn’t reply--couldn’t reply. Instead he carried her to the secluded settee where he’d found her asleep some moons ago, carefully sitting in his armor with her across her lap. “Ditto...” 

“Don’t” he gently pleaded, wrapping his arms tightly around her to bury his face in her hair. Sansa knew, as she always knew what he needed before he did, that he just needed to hold her, to reassure himself that she was here and alive. She shifted in his lap, pulling her hair over her shoulder to snuggle closer. 

He felt more than heard her soft humming, a soothing song that sank into his mind as she ran her hand through his hair. In the span of just a few minutes breathing came easier, the tears and rage ebbed and after several moments, he felt human again. Lifting his head, he saw that Sansa had also shed tears, her makeup smudged but still beautiful. 

“I’m sorry” she whispered once more. 

“I know” he turned to press his forehead to hers, the arm not cradling her moving so that he could trace her stomach. The act always served to relax him, a shot of pure happiness going from where their child lay directly to his heart. He had no idea how long they sat in silence, Sansa humming and his thumb stroking her stomach, but eventually the weight in his chest had vanished. 

“For what it’s worth, that was absolutely incredible. In all my years I have never seen acting like that,” Stannis’ voice cut into the moment and Jaime raised his head to look at the legendary director. Any cutting remark that had been perched at the edge of his tongue fell silent at the redness of Stannis’ eyes and the unmistakable sheen of wetness that laid there. 

“It wasn’t acting,” Sansa said softly, stealing the words from his mind. 

“I know” Stannis admitted softly. 

“We’re done today,” Jaime decided. “I’m more than done for today. We’re going home.”

“I understand,” Stannis gave a curt nod, looking at Sansa. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me, I didn’t...I didn’t enjoy that. But you were right” Sansa gave a weak smile. 

“Right?” Jaime asked, looking between them. 

“Congratulations, Selmy” Stannis uncrossed his arms and strode away. “You’ll beak the fans.”

“What does that mean?” Jaime asked her. 

“It means” Sansa laid her hand over his where it rested on her stomach. “That _The Kingslayer_ baby just became an unspoken reality.” 

Jaime was quiet on their drive home, her nerves pricking at her heart--right along with guilt, knowing that today had not been easy for him on any level. She could never have anticipated his reaction, though she knew that he would be upset. 

Turns out that ‘upset’ was nothing close to what awaited them at the end of the scene. Jaime had clung to her for some time before he mustered the strength to move. They were locked in their bubble and were loath to leave it. 

Once they had gathered themselves, they changed out of their costumes and back into their regular clothing. Sansa cleaned the blood from her face, the rest would have to wash off later, but she did pull her hair back into a bun and yanked on her sweater and jeans before going back to set. Jaime’s armor would take a bit longer, so it was easiest to wait for him near the crew. 

Stannis had immediately spotted her, pulling her to one of the monitors where he showed her the scene they’d just filmed. Tears had streamed down her face as she watched it, the pain and devastation in Jaime’s eyes--not just Barristan’s but _Jaime’s_ eyes tearing at her heart. From a third person perspective, the scene was perfect--absolutely perfect; Stannis had even declared there hadn’t been a dry eye amongst the crew. 

But to the woman who loved him, it was heartbreaking. 

_“If he doesn’t win an Academy Award for that,” Stannis whispered, shutting off the monitor as Jaime carried her off set. “Then I’m not Stannis Baratheon.”_

Sansa could only hope that it was worth it because she was never doing that again. She would never do that to him again. 

They arrived home before sunset, Cley dropping them with a promise to return in the morning before driving off into the horizon. Jaime held tightly to her hand as they unlocked the door and went inside. The moment she’d set her purse aside, kicked off her shoes and relocked the door, Jaime was guiding her to the bedroom. 

“Jaime” she said softly, leaning against the bathroom counter as he started the shower, still clinging to her hand. “Ditto…” 

“We’re not doing that again” he swore, his eyes finally meeting hers. She could see the sadness and the ache in the dark emerald, see his pain. 

“I’m sorry” she whispered. 

“I know” he clenched his jaw. “But we’re _never_ doing that again. Promise me.” 

“I promise,” she replied, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, brushing it from his forehead. 

“I know why he did it, why you did it. I couldn’t give two shakes about Myranda Royce, but you....” he took a deep breath, pulling her into his arms. “I love you. You are...everything.” 

“I love you too, Ditto” she snuggled close as steam began to float around them. 

"I have half a mind to strongarm Stannis into letting _you_ stand in for Myranda when I have to kiss her" Jaime snarked, breaking the tension of the moment. "Gods be damned I'll show him real emotion." 

"Yeah I am not keen on watching you kiss her either" Sansa laughed softly. 

“Come” he slowly released her, hands going to the hem of her sweater to tug it away. She didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on the dried flakes of blood across her chest and her heart clenched in response. Their clothing fell away easily, forming a forgotten heap on the tile floor, a sigh escaping her as he tugged her into the stall and under the hot spray. She watched in reverent silence as Jaime worked a lather of body wash onto the yellow loofah that normally hung on the dial. Once it was good and soapy, he scrubbed the blood from her chest, shoulder, and neck, not stopping until the last of it had washed away. 

“There” Jaime whispered, leaning down to kiss her collarbone. “That’s…that’s much better” he wrapped his arms around her, turning to kiss her lips, parting them with a deft tongue and delving deep. Sansa could only wrap her arms around his shoulders to keep her balance as he devoured her--as he assured them both that they were safe and unharmed. 

Their shower was a lazy exchange of slow, deep kisses and loving caresses. They eventually cleaned themselves of their makeup and the crud of the day, shutting off the cooling water to emerge into a very foggy bathroom. A quick toweling later and they made their way to the bed, renewing their kiss as they climbed into the blankets. 

“Stark” Jaime exhaled as he settled carefully over her, her legs wrapping around him. 

“Make love to me, Ditto” she cupped his jaw, running a thumb over his cheek bone. There was no need for foreplay, they’d had enough of that in the shower, she just wanted him inside her--to be connected to him. He didn’t reply, not with words but instead he aligned himself at her soaked core and slowly sank home. 

_Home._

“Fuck” Jaime groaned, balanced on an elbow his free hand smoothed up her thigh, gripping it tightly and helping her to wrap it around his waist. Like they were in the shower, his movements were unhurried--languid and deliberate, his body imprinting itself upon hers with the singular intention of reaffirming their bond. Their love. Their devotion. 

She held tightly to him, whispering words of love and assurance, promises of the future that awaited them, desperate to chase away the nightmares of today. When at last they crested, reaching their peaks together, Jaime collapsed beside her but kept her locked in his embrace. 

She snuggled close, tucking her head under his chin as their legs entwined. 

“Stark…” Jaime whispered after several minutes. 

“Ditto?”

“Did we change canons?” he asked and she muffled her giggles against his chest. 

“Canon? Maybe. Probably.”

“I think...I think I like it,” he admitted. 

“Me too” she agreed, placing a kiss on his chest over his heart. 

“It’s our mark in the series; yours and mine” he smoothed her damn, tangled hair from her face.

“Yours and mine” she repeated. “As if we haven’t already made our marks.” 

“I mean together, as _us_. You’re my Jonquil, my Stark, and you always will be.”

“You’ll always be my Barristan” she raised her head to kiss him. “And my Ditto.” 

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 1: ‘The Fire Inside’** _

_“You knew she would come for you, didn’t you, Kingslayer?” Mance Rayder asked, the words hanging on the snow flurries between them._

_“I always suspected” Barristan answered without looking at the Warrior King at his side. Both men’s eyes were glued to the horizon, one that now glowed a sickening neon green with Wildfire. The scouts had said they encountered an army, had warned that the Dragon Queen was coming, they just hadn’t realized that she would leave a path of scorched earth in her wake._

_“She wants revenge then?” Val ventured, coming up beside him._

_“Nothing so simple” Barristan replied, his shoulders dropping. “She wanted me, but I loved another--I will always love another. She killed Jonquil, ran a scaled dagger through her heart and in the process destroyed us both.”_

_“Kingslayer--”_

_“Barristan Selmy died alongside Lady Jonquil of House Drake” Barristan said. “The movements I go through now are nothing but muscle memory. To this day I do now know if Daenerys had the stones to run the blade through herself or if some lackey had been tasked with destroying something so beautiful.”_

_“And now she comes” Val’s hand that held her bow tapped against her thigh. "One would think you had a cock made of gold, Kingslayer."_

_“Suppose we’ll have to fucking kill this royal cunt, too” The Hound chuckled, stretching his shoulders and crossing his massive arms._

_“Killing a dragon isn’t so hard” Barristan looked to his oldest friend and companion. “It’s their offspring you have to worry about.”_

_“Good thing this one’s barren” The Hound replied with ease. “All we’ll have to worry about is what to eat at the celebration feast.”_

_“The fire does not concern you?” Mance--ever the man to give zero fucks turned to the heavily scarred man. “This surprises me!”_

_“Shut that fucking trap beneath your nose before I shut it for you” The Hound growled, stepping closer. "Permanently."_

_“Is that a way to speak to your King?” Val challenged, moving to stand in front of Mance._

_“He ain’t my King, ye daft cunt,” The Hound scoffed. “I serve no Kings, I have no masters. I fight at the side of the automation Barristan Selmy in honor of the Lady Jonquil” he added and Barristan turned to him in wide-eyed surprise. “I will until the day I die.” Though The Hound had been his traveling companion for some time, he had never asked for the man’s reasoning--true reasoning for leaving the Kingsguard with him. The day that Barristan received his punishment, The Hound had been at his side with a simple ‘where you go, I go’. He knew that The Hound did not suffer idiots or madness--even if they were royal, but he never asked the most obvious question of all...Why?_

_“Hound…”_

_“You can get weepy and sentimental on me later, Kingslayer” The Hound brushed it aside. “For now we have another monarchy to fell.”_

_“Aye” Barristan wrapped his hand around the hilt of his blade. “Aye.”_

_“Perhaps you’ll get lucky and I’ll even let you run the blade through the dragon bitch’s heart” The Hound’s dark laughter bounced across the snow in the same moment the Targaryen army broached the horizon. They loomed in shadow, Wildfire at their backs and snarling dragon banners flying high above their heads._

Arya had half an eye on where Jaime and Sansa were reclining on the back deck, the other was locked on the house...waiting. Sansa and Jacket were snuggled together in the chaise that faced the woods, lost in their bubble as usual. Her sister and the world-famous Jaime-fucking-Lannister had been in their own little world of happiness since they’d announced their impending addition to the world and nothing seemed to deter them. Not even the horrible day on set that Sansa had described, which even to Arya sounded like a really difficult day. They were solid as stone and just as unshakable. 

As soon as they’d announced their impending new arrival, the media had gone batshit crazy in general. All Arya had to say about that is that she was _very_ glad that they’d employed Jon as extra security beforehand, as it all reached fever-pitch madness in no time. The damned press was rabid for any tidbit they could get and didn’t have a single qualm about who they shoved out of the way in the process. Nothing would stand in the way of them and the best-selling author that was scandalously pregnant with the baby of _Westeros’ Sexiest Man Alive_...gasp, out of wedlock. For shame!

They were really starting to annoy the shit out of Arya and she had taken to sticking close to Sansa’s side any time they left the house on errands and the like. Rude bastards...she would be surprised if she made it through the saga without punching one in the dick--which might actually look bad, come to think of it.

Today they were all once again gathered at Sansa’s house--which had somehow become the ‘staycation’ place for family and actors alike, this time awaiting the arrival of the legendary Lannister family. Joanna and Tywin--Jaime’s parents, were due at any moment and according to speculation, Jaime’s twin sister Cersei would be with them. It was her that Arya sought to have a word or two with. 

‘World’s Best Aunt’ Arya inwardly scoffed. Yeah fucking right, as if the blonde bimbo had any input on the matter whatsoever. Arya and Sansa had been a two-wolf pack for years, and now that Sansa was pregnant, that didn’t mean everyone was suddenly welcome in their exclusive club. Fuck that. She accepted Jacket because he made Sansa happier than she’d ever been, that seemed worthy of admittance--right?

And it wasn’t that Arya was jealous--on the contrary, she was overjoyed that Sansa had finally found someone that was not only kind and caring, but worshipped the ground she walked on. It was clear to any who bothered to look that Jaime adored Sansa, he watched her every movement as if she hung the stars in the sky. And Sansa, well, Arya could tell by the way that Sansa always found her way to Jaime’s side or lap that she loved him just as much in return. She just...didn't want to lose her best friend. Her sister.

“They’re here” Jaime announced happily, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. 

“Good” Arya announced, pushing to her feet in preparation. 

“Arya--” Sansa objected as Jaime helped her to her feet. While Sansa wasn’t really that far along, she was already visibly pregnant in her leggings and sweater. Tater-Tot was growing quickly, that was for sure. Arya paused, turning away from her goal to move beside Jaime at Sansa’s side, making sure that she was safely on her own two feet as the doorbell rang. 

“I’ll get it” Jaime kissed Sansa’s forehead and ducked inside, leaving Sansa and Arya alone. 

“Are you okay?” Arya asked her sister, standing at her side. 

“I’m fine, Ya-ya” Sansa smiled. “I can’t remember a time when I was happier. Relaxing outside with my family, the man I love at my side while my fierce little sister waits for any sign of a ‘threat’. That’s the good life.” 

“Threat” Arya scoffed as the back door opened and the ‘blonde bimbo’ herself appeared--clad in that fucking sweater. “Hey!” Arya yelled and the blonde--Jaime’s sister faced her with an innocent smile. 

“Hay is for horses and cows, child” Cersei Lannister replied smoothly. Clad in the very same sweater she’d been in her auntie-selfie, she could have just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. Though, she supposed when you owned a fashion magazine you probably looked like that all the time.

“Child? Are you---are you for real right now?” Arya gaped, staring at the beautiful and poised woman in shock. 

“Oh hun, I never jest--it leaves wrinkles” Cersei laughed moving to hug her brother in greeting. “Hey Jay,” Cersei smiled. Arya watched her, unsure of how to ‘attack’ this beast or where it’s weakness lay. It was beginning to look like Cersei Lannister was a lot more witty that Arya had given her credit for. Beautiful and smart, damnit, that was not good.

“Cersei Lannister in the North” Jaime laughed. “Surely the world is ending!”

“I know. I can already feel the urge to buy something plaid rising in the back of my mind” Cersei scoffed, pulling Sansa into a hug. Jaime jogged back inside, likely to help his parents who were bustling about the kitchen. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Sansa said as she hugged the blonde. 

“Oddly I am too,” Cersei agreed, dropping a hand to Sansa’s stomach. There was a familiarity between them that admittedly irked Arya, but it was better than the alternative of Jaime’s twin hating Sansa. “So big already! I swear if you pop out twins, my mother will have a heart attack. I'm not ready to be the second favorite daughter just yet.” 

“I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” Sansa replied, turning to Arya. “Cersei, this is my sister, Arya. Arya this is Cersei.” 

“Oh I know who she is,” Arya noted. “The one who thinks she’s the ‘World’s Best Aunt’.” 

“What a bold choice of first impression” Cersei smirked, adjusting the very expensive looking handbag at her left elbow. “It’s nice to meet you” she offered her right hand. Arya hesitated only a second before taking it with her own. 

“You know you’re gonna have to earn that title, right?” Arya smirked, knowing by the glint in Cersei’s eye that she was up for the challenge. 

“Possibly” Cersei replied, releasing her hand. “But I’ll do you one better, you darling little goth terrier you.” 

“What’s that?” Arya challenged, ignoring the comparison. 

“We both give credit where credit’s due” Cersei pulled a sweater from her handbag, tossing it to Arya. “And we make sure that our little Lannister nugget is properly trained in sarcasm and fashion.”

“We—You…what?” Arya was speechless as she held the sweater up by the shoulders. Unlike Cersei’s sweater which was pink and far too sparkly, this one was black with grey ‘World’s Best Aunt’ lettering and a row of metal studs along the top of each shoulder seam. 

“We could have matched but you don’t strike me as much of a ‘sequin girl’,” Cersei winked as an older couple that could only be Tywin and Joanna emerged from the house. Good Gods the Great Lion was even more intimidating in person than he was in his YouTube meltdowns. 

Cersei turned away, tossing her bag onto the closest patio chair to resume talking with Jaime and her parents. Arya blinked a few times and looked to Sansa who was watching her. In the flash of a second, Arya’s entire perspective in Cersei Lannister had changed entirely. 

“You just got _outplayed_ , Ya-Ya,” Sansa giggled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

"Yeah, wow."

“At least it’s not pink” Sansa added as the couple approached. 

“Oh, look at you; you’re so beautiful” the older blonde woman pulled Sansa into her arms, hugging her tightly and giving her that ‘rock’ back and forth that was a signature of grandmother’s everywhere. 

“Welcome back, I am glad you made it safely,” Sansa greeted. 

“Of course we did,” she smiled, holding Sansa’s hands. “I’ve managed to convince Ty that we need to stay for at least a fortnight, probably more since he’s going to have to be filming a bit. I want to have time to relax this trip.” 

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” Sansa replied. 

“Don’t tell her that, she’ll never leave” the Great Lion leaned close to quickly kiss Sansa’s cheek before wrapping an arm around his wife.

“We have the room,” Sansa laughed. “Tywin, Joanna, this is my sister Arya. Arya these are Jaime’s parents Tywin and Joanna.” While they had been in the North once before, given the grueling filming schedule and their short stay had meant that Tywin and Joanna hadn’t yet met Arya. They seemed surprisingly...normal.

“Please call me ‘Jo’,” Joanna immediately smiled, shaking Arya’s hand. “We practically family now. I think you’re the little sister that Jaime’s always wanted.” 

“Oh--” Arya cleared her throat. “Thank you, it's nice to meet you” she looked up, up, up into the sharp emerald eyes of the Great Lion. “And you too, Mr. Lannister.” 

“Might as well call me Ty, everyone else does” he chuckled, shaking her hand. 

“I don’t think I could,” Arya scoffed. “I’ve seen the videos...” 

“Ah yes, those lovely pieces of ancient history” Tywin nodded with a smile. 

“Did you really make Reyne shit himself?” 

“Arya!” Sansa gasped as Tywin’s laughter echoed in the backyard. 

“You know, I never did find out for certain” Tywin’s smirk was the most sinister one she’d ever seen.

Cersei would be the first to admit that the untamed wilds of the North had been far from the top of her list of places to visit. She hadn’t given the forests and mountains much thought, she was always far too busy with work and events for that. But now that she was here, she could not help but notice that the fresh air and lack of continual traffic sounds echoing in the air had helped her body to finally relax. 

Standing in Sansa’s spacious living room beside the massive fireplace that she recognized from Jaime’s social media, she found an odd sense of peace she didn’t know existed. 

“Here” Jaime appeared beside her, offering her a glass of red wine. 

“Thank you” she took it, returning her eyes to where she had been staring at the stars out the window. 

“It’s weird, isn’t it” Jaime mused. “The way you just feel _home_ here right away. I felt it the first time I walked through the door and again every time we come home.” 

“I can certainly see the appeal,” Cersei admitted, taking a sip of her wine. “Our parents have made themselves right at home” she nodded to where Tywin was sitting in the leather recliner across the room, a King on his throne as he talked with Arya who sat on the couch adjacent. Joanna was just beyond them in the kitchen with Sansa, having all but pushed the younger woman aside to take over cooking dinner. 

“I have a feeling that their staying here will be a regular thing,” Jaime chuckled. “Especially once their grandchild makes their appearance. But it's not as if the house doesn’t have the space.” 

“I didn’t expect it to be this large,” Cersei agreed. “You said ‘cabin’ and I did not expect this great stone and wooden beast. Sansa has an eye for lovely houses.” 

“She does.” 

“And you have the space now” she smirked. “But given the rate you’re going, you’ll have a half-dozen children at some point.” 

“Not quite a half-dozen” he scoffed, though she could see the gears turning behind his eyes. “Maybe close.”

“You’re different here” Cersei turned to him fully, the fire at her back keeping her warm. “Softer.” 

“Softer?”

“Happier, I suppose. It’s nice to see, Jay.” 

“Probably because I am happy,” Jaime agreed. “I certainly never expected to find it, but I’ve found my place in the world.” 

“A regular Lion in Winter” Cersei chuckled. 

“Isn’t that a _Narnia_ book?” he teased, a laugh slipping past her lips unbidden. 

“Funny, Jay” she replied. 

“I’m glad you came,” Jaime said softly, suddenly serious. “And thank you for...you know” he nodded to Arya who was wearing the sweater Cersei had brought her. “She’s really protective of Sansa.”

“I can understand the sentiment. Besides, it’s only fair” Cersei gave a small shrug. “The designer owed me a favor. Now we can both have one of a kind sweaters for the first Lannister niece or nephew…..or _niece_ ” she laughed. 

“In that case, you will be glad to know that Sansa and I both are hoping for a little girl” Jaime admitted. 

“Good,” Cersei nodded resolutely. “The world is in dire need of another Lannister beauty.” 

“I agree,” he said, raising his own glass of wine in salute. 

“Dinner!” their mother called out, summoning them all to the table. Jaime moved on ahead but Cersei stayed behind a moment, watching everyone take a seat at the wooden table. There was no hesitation or confusion, no Lannister or Stark, just a single family enjoying dinner. Arya opened another bottle of wine, setting in the center of the table before sitting beside Tywin to resume their conversation. Whatever the two had been rabidly discussing, they were both completely absorbed in it--which led Cersei to believe it was most likely some period of Westeros’ History.

She watched as Jaime stood at Sansa’s side, both of them talking softly as Jaime smoothed a hand over her stomach. She had never seen her brother as happy or content as he did here with Sansa--in their home. She’d never felt jealous of her twin before, always sure to be one-hundred percent supportive of all of his accomplishments; hence why she was more than prepared for ‘reveal day’--using her influence to swear the sweater’s maker into silence lest she publicly ruin them. 

However, she couldn’t help but wonder if such happiness was out there for her, just waiting for her to discover it. 

“Cee-Cee?” Jaime called out to her as he finally moved to the table. She saw the confusion in his eyes and was sure to smile in return. 

“I’m coming,” she laughed, making her way to the empty seat between her mother and Sansa. 

“Here” Sansa refilled Cersei’s wine glass with a smirk. “You’re drinking for two now” she teased and Cersei’s laughter reverberated in the kitchen, the unexpected joke making her laugh harder than she had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't forget about the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/) on discord!


	20. Part 20: Dialogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. I know its been a while, but I will be honest -- the motivation just wasn't there. I got stuck trying to figure out the next step for this story, and I finally came to the conclusion that we're going to have this chapter and then a time jump ahead in chapter 21. That will take us to where I need to be to keep this fluff train moving. 
> 
> Thank you all for ALL of your patience, love, and support. I am so happy that you're enjoying this story and I am grateful for the readership. And as always, thank you to BirdeBee for trusting me with your brain child. 
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is something I do for fun. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors--they're all my own. :D :P Thank you for reading!

“You’re staring” Sansa smiled, closing her container of mascara before setting it on the counter. 

“That I am” Jaime smirked in response, clearly unapologetic. Sansa had risen early, unable to fall back into blissful slumber she had eventually given up and started getting ready for the day. Now, showered and working on her makeup with only her bra and panties on, her hair in a towel, she had felt the bold caress of Jaime’s eyes on her while she worked. 

“Staring is rude” she teased, leaning against the counter to face him. Still in bed with deliciously sleep-rumbled hair, Jaime looked more handsome than ever. Every day she was reminded of how deeply grateful she was to see a side of Jaime Lannister that few ever did; this half-asleep, boyishly charming man was hers and hers alone. While the rest of the world saw the polished movie star and cover model, she had the great fortune of waking up beside this very real, very lovely human being.

“I was simply admiring” he pulled a pillow under his chest as he rolled closer, propping himself to watch her. “It’s hard to take my eyes off of my girls.” 

At his words, her hand fell automatically to the rather telling swell of her stomach. There was no hiding it now, not even in one of Jaime’s jackets--his leather jacket now being one she was ‘infamous’ for wearing around town. As they had anticipated, the world had gone absolutely ballistic at the news, but their fervor had only grown to a near-rabid state along with Sansa’s stomach. Constantly being mobbed by reporters and photographers, they had done away with leaving the house for anything short of work or absolute essentials (ones that Pod or Arya couldn’t handle). In this regard it was fortunate that the other Lannisters had elected to stay in the North for a while. 

Granted, Tywin was still scheduled to shoot several upcoming scenes and Cersei had set up her laptop in Sansa’s office to stay on track with work, but still they were always there to help. Joanna had all but taken over the kitchen and grocery duty, which meant that Arya showed up for dinner more often than not. It had taken Sansa a bit of time to grow used to there being so _much_ family around--it had been sometime since she’d spent time with her own. But they had all settled into this unique life they were living alongside each other. 

Today was one of those days where Tywin would be filming with Jaime, this time they were tackling the big forest scene with the ghost of Lionel Selmy; it was sure to be another emotionally charged day. Because of this, both Sansa and Joanna were going to be on set in the event that things got _too_ heavy. At least this time Jaime was prepared for the emotional scene to come. She still hadn’t forgiven herself for the way he had broken during their impromptu scene together; the shattered tone of his voice would always echo in the back of her mind.

Still, she would admit that Stannis had been right---begrudgingly, of course. Her presence had been just the trigger to get Jaime to where he needed to be...heartbroken. It would never happen again, however, she just couldn’t do that to him a second time.

“She has certainly made their presence known” she laughed softly. They weren’t keeping the gender a secret from the world at large, they just hadn’t seen a need to spread the word just yet. Jaime was absolutely over the moon and still searching for ‘the best way to break the news’, which meant it was sure to be a post at some point. Their family and friends knew, that was enough for her. She had even sent her father a text message to which he promptly replied with excitement.

“That she has” Jaime agreed, his tone soft and serious. “I watch you there and I can clearly see the future--a few years from now maybe. You’ll be standing there teaching her to brush her teeth or maybe she will be like Cersei, watching her mother put on makeup with adoration in her eyes.” 

“Ditto…” she swallowed back a wave of emotion, an action that was becoming an increasing habit with the advancement of her pregnancy.

“Who knows, maybe by then we’ll have more than one little Lannister running about” he added with a crooked smile. "I'd settle for a whole herd."

“You’re pretty adorable, you know that?” Sansa pushed away from the counter and closed the distance between them. Carefully maneuvering onto the bed, the moment she was close enough, Jaime pulled her into his arms. She laughed as the towel fell from her head, allowing her damp hair to spill free as Jaime pulled her into the blankets with him. 

“I have been told--on occasion, that I look similar to ‘Westeros’ Sexiest Man Alive’, yes” he countered. 

“Similar enough, perhaps a bit shaggier” Sansa ran her hands through his hair, the locks longer than he normally kept them due to filming. She liked it longer, actually, the spun gold color suited him very well--she especially appreciated the way she could cling to it in their more intimate moments.

 _”Precious handles---”_

Hush! 

“You certainly weren’t complaining last night” he smoothed a hand down her back to cup the curve of her ass. She didn’t fit against him quite the same way she had the moons previous, but still she loved the way Jaime would pull her as close as possible to his body. 

_”Precious!”_

“I absolutely was not” Sansa agreed with a smile. 

“I can hardly take my eyes off of you” he slid a hand to cup her stomach, smoothing over the swollen flesh. “Gods you’re--”

“If you use the word ‘ripe’, Ditto, I _will_ cut you” she interrupted his words, pulling a long bout of laughter from his chest. Somehow she knew that was what he was going to say, but being compared to fruit...well, it didn’t exactly make her feel attractive.

“Sexy then” he corrected, holding her close. 

“Better” she smiled up at him, running a hand through his hair. A long moment a silence passed between them, and eventually she cupped his cheek and spoke. “Are you ready for today?” 

He was quiet for a few seconds before he gave a small nod, “Yeah, I think so” he whispered. 

“It’s going to suck,” she said bluntly. “Mostly because you will be saying those words to your _actual_ father, but I know that it is going to be incredible.” 

“I can hope” he laughed, diverting the serious tone of the conversation with humor. She took his unspoken queue and let it go. 

“And tonight, when all is said and done” she slid her hand to the back of his neck. “We can sneak away from the world.” 

“Hardly possible when my parents have taken up residence in our home” he scoffed and she did her best to ignore the way her heart clenched at the term ‘our home’--because that is what her house had become, their home. Every day with Jaime here at her side, this house became more and more of the home that she had always dreamed of. Love, happiness, family...she had discovered that with him.

“Well” she smirked. “Then I’d say it’s a good thing that I have a very specific penthouse reserved at the Hornwood Hotel” she said softly and Jaime drew up short. 

“You didn’t!” 

“Rest assured that I absolutely did, Ditto” she laughed at the pure happiness in his emerald eyes. “Edd is taking care of everything, including dinner...what do you say to ‘Naked Dinner’ with me tonight?” 

“I’d have to say ‘hell yes’ to that one,” Jaime stole a quick kiss. “Gods Bless that man. I am going to invite him to our wedding!”

“You have the softest of soft spots for that man, I swear” she replied, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be in the least surprised you were to invite him to the hospital when I’m in labor.” 

“Don’t tempt me” Jaime teased, rolling to his back and pulling her across his chest the best that her stomach would allow. “Either way, he’s going to be at our wedding.” 

“Fine” she gave an overly dramatic sigh. “But I draw the line at having a little Edd figure on the top of our cake with us.” 

“If you insist.” 

“Oh, I do.” 

“Look at you” Joanna smiled up at her husband of many decades, admiring the way he wore a suit of golden armor. She had seen many ‘Tywins’ over their time together and had the honor of growing and evolving alongside him. But she had never expected to see him like this...the armor was devastating every single time he donned it.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you” Tywin chuckled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

“Of course I am,” she laughed, smoothing her hands over the breastplate and the engravings there. It was fortunate that it was cold enough to have her wearing mittens on her hands or she would have earned another scowl from Stannis for smudging the carefully polished armor. 

“I do feel rather dashing” he admitted with a crooked smile. 

“You certainly look it,” Joanna replied. “Do you think they’d noticed if we kept the armor?” 

“Stannis has eyes in the back of his head” Tywin countered. “Nothing gets past that man” he added and she gave an exaggerated pout. His statement was more than true; they had learned the ropes of being on a movie set quickly, and under Stannis’ strict rule, all in his domain were careful not to break his rules. 

“Still” she continued as he wrapped an armor-clad arm around her back. “It's quite a lovely view.” 

“Forty years together, I should be grateful you still put up with me, it is pure luck that you still ‘thirst’ for me” he said dryly and she burst into laughter. 

“Arya’s been teaching you new words, I see” she said in between bouts of laughter. 

“That girl could be Cersei’s twin,” Tywin quipped. “She is more like her than Jaime is.” 

“Probably why they’re thick as thieves” she noted. “And it's closer to fifty years than forty” she teased. 

“And I’ve loved every single one.” 

“There’s my romantic husband,” she smiled. In all of the adventures that she’d had with him over their years together, this one was becoming one of her favorites. She had never spent much time in the North, but now that they were here she was greatly enjoying it. And she knew for a fact that Tywin was too. So much so that he had already started inquiring about the properties for sale around Sansa’s home. 

Well, it was Sansa and Jaime’s home now…

Neither of them wanted to be away from their children and soon-to-arrive granddaughter longer than they had to, but that didn’t mean they wanted to live _with_ them. After all, too much togetherness wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

“Dad” Jaime’s voice interrupted as he stepped to their side. Clad in his own armor, Jaime looked just as dashing as his father. “Are you ready?” 

“Of course” Tywin nodded, turning back to her to steal a quick kiss before releasing her. He strode away at Jaime’s side, both Lannister men talking softly about the emotionally charged scene to come. Joanna watched them for a few moments, eventually turning away and making her own way to where Sansa was comfortably seated. 

“Well aren’t you cozy” Joanna laughed, taking in the sight of Sansa bundled up, complete with a couture grey knit cap that Cersei had insisted looked perfect with Sansa’s fiery hair. While most of the crew were standing about, there were several portable benches that had been set up that were comfortable and more importantly free of the fresh snow.

“Here” Sansa lifted the blanket as she sat, covering both of their laps. “Jaime refused to budge until he was certain that I wasn’t going to freeze to death.” 

“That boy, I swear” Joanna shook her head, settling in beside the woman she hoped to call her ‘daughter’ officially at some point. She understood that the pressures of the movies and books weighed heavily on both Jaime and Sansa, and she understood the need to take things at their pace. Obviously their pregnancy had not been planned, but neither of them seemed the slightest upset about it. Everything else would fall into place at the right time.

Still, Joanna couldn’t wait to see Jaime happily married and settled. Cersei was likely to never settle down and Tyrion...well he was ‘happily married’ to his work. But Jaime, he had changed so much since he met Sansa. There was an easy happiness to him, an effortless peace that had blanketed his entire life and that warmed her heart.

She had never imagined that her eldest son would be the first to make her a grandmother. He had spent many years in the public eye as a sworn bachelor, but all of that had changed when Sansa burst into his life. She knew from the first conversation she had with Jaime about her that he had found his ‘Tywin’, his other half and the reason he had stayed single all this time. He was simply waiting for Sansa.

“I know” Sansa smiled back. “As much as I love the ‘carefree’ Jaime Lannister I met, this hovering, over-helping impending fatherhood Jaime is pretty adorable.” 

“Ty was the same way” Joanna replied. “Especially with the twins.” 

“I am sincerely grateful that it's just the one, my clothes are already of questionable fit as it is” Sansa said. “Jaime is over-the-moon that it's a girl.” 

“Cersei was thrilled too. It’s quite precious,” Joanna gave a small laugh. “She is going to be spoiled to pieces.” 

“I fully expect that,” Sansa laughed. It was then that Stannis called for quiet on set, so the two of them settled into the warmth of their shared blanket and watched Barristan and Lionel share their final goodbye. 

By the end of the first take, there wasn’t a dry eye to be found.

_**Excerpt from ‘The Kingslayer Series’ Book 2: ‘Quest of the Fallen’** _

_“There is no redemption, not for men like me!” Barristan argued, glaring across the Painted Table at the Hound. They were gathered around the large maps of the world, trying to decide their best and smartest move._

_“Bugger that” the Hound snapped back at him. “That dragon cunt needed killing, simple as that. You’ve ended their dynasty once and for all. It was necessary for the safety of the people. Fuck your self-pity.”_

_“You were never one to mince words” Barristan ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head._

_“No point in it.”_

_“Then what now?”_

_“We keep moving, forward and only forward” the Hound reasoned. “Because of you, Mance and his people are safe in the South, the dragons are dead. But now…”_

_“Now the dead walk the earth” Barristan finished when the Hound trailed off. He sank into the large wooden chair--a chair he had never expected to see again, one that had long belonged to his father. With the final end of the Targaryen dynasty and the rise of the new reign of King Rickard, Barristan had been allowed to return to his family’s lands. A small concession for the man that had spilled more than his share of blood so long as he agreed to help with the coming war, of course._

_“Its un-fucking-believable” the Hound lowered his massive frame to his own chair. “And I thought dragons were bad enough.”_

_“Give me a hundred Mad King’s” Barristan scoffed. “Not a hundred undead.”_

_“Think of it this way” the Hound’s scarred visage twisted in amusement. “At least they can’t fly.” Barristan couldn’t help it, the bark of laughter escaped his chest before he stopped it._

_“You couldn’t be more right.”_

“Jaime!”

“Over here!”

“Jaime! How is filming going?” 

“Do you know the gender of the baby yet?” 

“Alayne!” 

"Miss. Stone!"

Jaime did his best to ignore the catcalls and questions of the paparazzi that awaited them at the security gates on set. The vultures had followed them this morning, gathering around the outdoor set and anxiously awaiting their chance to get _the_ juicy tidbit of the week. 

His parents had already left, heading back to the house and giggling like teenagers. As much as he appreciated that his parents were still very much in love, he didn’t want to think about what their evening had in store. It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day for all involved, and he was more than ready to get to the hotel and spend a quiet evening with Sansa. Alone. Alone and preferably naked. 

“Are you two planning on tying the knot?”

“Alayne, do you think your unwed pregnancy sets a bad example for your younger readers?!” someone yelled and he felt Sansa’s hand clench around his. She was doing her damndest not to react to that low-aimed barb, but he was not going to stand for it. 

“That’s absolutely out of line!” Jaime turned to the crowd, unable to keep the anger from showing on his face. “Little Jon” he turned to the larger Jon. “Find out whoever asked that and get them out of here for good.” 

“Got it boss” he nodded, moving towards the crowd “Alright, who shot their mouth off? Single ‘em out or I will ban everyone here! Permanently” Smalljon yelled out, spurring a flurry of activity. Littler Jon escorted them to their car where Cley stood, deftly ushering them inside. 

“Bastards” Jaime muttered once they were secure inside the vehicle. Littler Jon slid into the passenger seat beside Cley and they all buckled in.

“What an _asshole_ ” Sansa sniffled, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks. 

“Agreed” Jaime muttered, pulling her into an embrace. “I know it's hard to ignore shit like that, but they’re just trying to get their big payout.” 

“I know” Sansa sniffled again, snuggling into his side as Cley piloted them away. “Stupid hormones just makes it impossible not to cry at the drop of a hat.” 

“For the record” Jaime said against the crown of her hair. “You’re not a bad example. We’re consenting adults in a committed relationship, there isn’t a single thing wrong with having a baby together.” 

“Thank you, Ditto” she sighed. “While logically I know that you’re right, it still stung.” 

“I know,” he sighed. “I think that your fans know, like I do, that you’re incredible. Best selling novelist, witty and intelligent. You’ve created a world that was deemed amazing enough to become a series of movies. Not just _a_ movie, but an epic series! Besides, you’re also something that no one else in the world could ever be.” 

“What’s that?” she adjusted to smile up at him. 

“The mother of my daughter” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “For now. Mother of my children--multiple, later. Regardless of whether or not we ever marry--which I truly hope we will, you’ll always be my Sansa.” 

“I love you” she said, a small smile on her lips. 

“I love you too,” he replied, stealing a quick kiss before she snuggled back against him. 

“And for the record” she continued. “I hope we will too.” 

“Good” he muttered, holding her close as they turned into the hotel’s driveway where another horde of reporters awaited them. 

Littler Jon was out the moment they stopped, ensuring that everyone kept their distance and stayed behind the barricades that the hotel had arranged. Jaime slid out and then turned to help Sansa to her feet--okay, so he was worried that she’d slip on black ice. Just like he’d been worried that she would be too cold on set today. He was officially a worrier.

It was clear by the crowd's reaction that they had not been prepared for Jaime Lannister and Alayne Stone to emerge from the car. Up until now the two had been retreating to their home while the rest of the cast and crew were ensconced within the hotels walls. But to lay eyes upon them now was a surprise. The sound of their cheering was almost deafening, overwhelming to be certain. 

Jaime and Sansa ignored the press but did pause to sign several books and photos that fans had extended over the barricade. 

"Jaime! I love you!" a male voice yelled out. 

"I love you too!" Jaime called back, causing the others to laugh. A few selfies later and they were finally able to reach the hotel's door. “Edd, my man!” he called to the surprisingly suit-clad young man who stood at the top of the stairs with a smile. The change in Edd was great to see; gone was the stammering waiter that had fainted at their first meeting and in his place stood a man coming into his own. Jaime could only hope that he and their friendship had helped to inspire that.

“Welcome back to the Hornwood Hotel” Edd quickly shook his hand before Sansa pulled him into a hug in full view of the gathered press. 

“Good to see you” Jaime tapped the _Kingslayer_ sigil tie tack Edd wore. “Looking good!” 

“Thanks to you, I’ve been promoted,” Edd explained as they stepped into the lobby proper. “It seems that earning the trust of our most famous guests showed management that I was capable of taking on the arrangement of all high profile arrangements. I've been placed in charge of all cast and crew for the film. Discretion is not often something you can prove you have, but it seems I did.” 

“Congratulations!” Sansa smiled, all evidence of her previous sadness having melted away. “That’s amazing.” 

“Way to go, Edd” Jaime agreed as they were escorted to the elevator. 

“Thank you” Edd shifted nervously on his feet as the doors opened. Allowing them to enter first, he stepped in after them and hit the button for the Penthouse floor before swiping the keycard over the pad. “Everything you requested has been handled, Sansa” he extended the card to her. “Dinner will arrive as scheduled and if you have a sudden craving for anything else, just let me know and I will handle it.” 

“Thank you, Edd, I greatly appreciate that,” Sansa replied. 

“It's my pleasure,” Edd nodded. 

“If you’re not careful, this one will have you planning our wedding” Sansa pat Jaime’s chest with a playful smile. 

“You’re getting married?” Edd’s eyes went wide with surprise. 

“Eventually” Jaime reasoned. “And you can’t plan it because you’re going to be invited--you will come won’t you?” he added and Edd choked on his exhale at the same moment the elevator doors opened. 

“Eh, I’ll think about it” Edd recovered and quipped with a crooked grin, sending Jaime into a bout of genuine belly laughter. 

“Perfect” Jaime shook Edd’s hand. 

“You’ll find your suitcase already in the bedroom and I’ll return with dinner at seven sharp. Enjoy your evening” Edd gave a nod and held the door open for them as they stepped into the penthouse. “And thank you for choosing the Hornwood Hotel” Edd added and then _finally_ Jaime was alone with Sansa.

“The view is just as beautiful as I remember” Sansa smiled, shedding her jacket and knit cap to step towards the large windows that led to the balcony. Opening the doors she stepped outside, despite the chill.

“Yes, yes it is” Jaime snuck a photo of her standing in the evening sun--nearly in exactly the same place he had taken the first photo of her all those months ago. He hadn’t known how much his life would change the moment she stepped into it, but he was incredibly grateful that it had. 

“Sneaky” Sansa looked back at him over his shoulder as he was quickly typing out a caption. 

“You know me” he hit ‘post’ and pocketed his phone. She’d see it later; the near-silhouette of her in the sunset, one hand on her stomach as she admired the forest beyond. The caption was simple; _’Absolutely Perfect’ #MyGirls #Kingslayer #DoitforEdd_. He’d been waiting for the perfect way to share the news of their daughter, what better way than back where it all started. 

“That I do, Ditto” she replied as he moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her. 

“We have a bit of time before dinner arrives” he placed a kiss just below her ear on the soft, sensitive skin on her neck. Automatically she tilted her head to the side to allow him better access. “You” another kiss. “Me” another. “And that huge bathtub we love so much.” 

“Sounds divine,” she sighed as he nuzzled her shoulder. 

“I agree” he smoothed a hand over her stomach before giving her a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s forget about the world” his hand slid into hers and guided her back into the warmth of the penthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't forget about the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/) on discord!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


End file.
